


Forgotten Seasons

by emmadilla



Series: The World of Skyrim [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Amnesia, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, alternate start beginning, bisexual dragonborn, modded roleplay, warlock's thrall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2018-11-16 03:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11245449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmadilla/pseuds/emmadilla
Summary: After spending years under a thrall spell, put there when she was kidnapped by a dark warlock, Joanna finally breaks free. But all is not as she remembered, which is not much to begin with, and she struggles to put together the puzzle of who she is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I swore I wasn't going to have more than two ongoing fics at once, but Joanna's plot bunny just completely took over and threw out Rosalee and Rue and demanded I start her story, so here it is. This won't be my first Elder Scrolls story, but this is the first roleplay I did when I got Skyrim special edition and started playing around with mods. I hope y'all enjoy. :)

The entire cave stunk of slaughterfish, its pungent aroma hitting me in the face and seeping into my very pores. I blinked a couple of times to try to get my bearings, looking around cautiously. I stood at a table, knife in hand, slaughterfish corpses stacked in front of me. A pile of their scales sat off to the side. I must have been harvesting them … but why? I couldn’t remember. I looked at my hands, shiny with blood, and saw a foreign ring with a brilliant blue stone on my finger. Of course, the ring. I had found it in the stomach of one of the slaughterfish I’d been gutting and cleaning and harvesting from, and something about it had beckoned to me, calling out to me in soft, dulcet tones until I slipped it on.

 

Before I pulled on the ring, it was like I’d been in a haze, a walking dream. I couldn’t remember much of anything, but I knew enough to move cautiously. It seemed like it had been a while since I’d been in control of my senses, and this freedom was too precious to give up by being too brash and inviting trouble. Now that I finally had a grip on myself, I wasn’t about to give it up so easily.

 

I heard rustling behind me and froze for a moment before I heard a voice that said, “Oi, girl, hurry up with those slaughterfish scales, I need them for some poisons I’m brewing for Maven.”

 

I slowly turned my head to see an older man in wizard’s robes, hunched over an alchemy table, dutifully grinding up ingredients. _Him_. While I couldn’t remember much, I could remember a few things, and one of them was that _he_ was responsible for me being here. I’d had a family, I was sure. He must have snatched me from them. Had they looked for me? Mourned for me? How much time had been wasted as I’d floundered in the haze he’d put me in? A rush of anger overcame me, and I gripped my knife tightly, my hand trembling slightly as I crept over behind him. I forced my breathing to remain calm, but I couldn’t help the soft, shaky rhythm that adrenaline dictated. I was right behind him now, knife in hand, poised to strike. I would only get one chance at this, if I failed then he would either kill me or thrall me again, and neither was a prospect I deemed acceptable.

 

Right as I was about to strike, he called out, “Joanna?” His tone was questioning, puzzled, but I didn’t let it distract me as I plunged the dirtied knife in his throat, an unknown satisfaction coursing through me as he gurgled his last breath before he collapsed on the floor.

 

My breathing quickened as I stood over his body. I trembled from the adrenaline pumping through me, my vision going in and out for a few moments before I took deep breaths and got a hold of myself. I couldn’t remember where I was from and who my family was, but first things first; I needed to get out of this cave. And I also needed to take as much as I could with me. The wilds of Skyrim were dangerous to travel alone, and I was going to need to outfit myself as soon as possible. The hooded brown robes I was currently wearing at least provided the guise of a mage or scholar, and a poor one at that, so that would hopefully deter any bandits I might run across until I could reach civilization. But I would need gold and I would need it soon if I was going to survive long.

 

And survive is what I was going to do.

 

I found a knapsack stuffed in the corner of the cave, and I emptied it of potatoes and leeks before I started loading it up with things that would actually be useful. I grabbed the dark wizard’s robes, as I could feel the enchantments thrumming through the fabric, and that would up their value. I also found a couple of spell tomes that I figured I could get a decent amount of gold for along with potion ingredients and some soul gems. The soul gems were empty, I could tell by the way they felt empty and dead in my hand, but every little bit of gold counted, and they didn’t weigh much anyway. I even grabbed the slaughterfish scales that I’d been harvesting. Every little bit I could take, I would.

 

I paused at a large chest that was sitting in the back of the little cave. It looked like there was a trap attached to it, but I’d found a couple of lock picks and set to work, tentatively working the picks until I heard the lock click and the trap was disarmed.

 

I was glad that I’d taken the time to open the chest, as there was a little sum of gold sitting there, along with some loose gems, a few spell scrolls, and an ebony dagger. My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I ran my finger along the dagger’s length. Wizards didn’t tend to rely on actual weapons, so this was a definite surprise, but it was a very welcome one as I tucked the dagger into an easily accessible pocket in the knapsack. I could have tied it to the belt around my waist, but I didn’t want to advertise it. After all, if I someone carried something as fancy as an ebony dagger, odds were that they were carrying even more fancy loot, and the last thing I wanted to do was call attention to myself.

 

I took one more cursory look around the cave, making sure I hadn’t missed anything. I didn’t want to come back here, one because I never wanted to come back to this place of imprisonment ever again, and two because this nice little location would likely be taken over by some bandits or another dark wizard in a matter of weeks, maybe even days.

 

As I stepped out of the cave, I took a deep breath of fresh air, filling my lungs with the scent of pine needles and long grass. I couldn’t stop and enjoy the view for long, though, as the sun was low in the sky. Not quite twilight, but close enough. I would need to find shelter and fast, and I crossed my fingers in hope that I wasn’t far from a city. I really didn’t want to hunker down for the night in the wilderness, I felt far too vulnerable between having no armor and the nice assortment of sellable items I carried with me. It likely wasn’t going to fetch me thousands of septims, but if I could find some good merchants I could walk out with a nice, hefty sum, enough to get some armor and maybe a more serviceable weapon than a dagger, something to really defend myself with.

 

I saw, in the distance, smoke rising from between the trees. It could be either a settlement or a bandit camp, but I rolled the dice and started walking towards it. I reckoned that the dark wizard wouldn’t place himself in an unnecessarily dangerous position close to a camp full of outlaws that would have loved to kill and then rob him of his valuables, and my assumption paid off as I walked into a settlement, a mining settlement if the look of the residents were anything to go off of. They looked hardy and sturdy, and were covered in dust and grime as they traversed the worn path between houses. Hopefully they were friendly enough and could offer shelter. If not, I could always make camp close enough to them as to be out of danger, but I preferred a roof over my head.

 

As I approached a fire pit, a woman stood up as she noticed me and called out to me. “Hello, stranger, passing through?”

 

“Um …” I paused as I looked around for a moment. I really had no clue where I was trying to get to, my goal when I got out of the cave was to just find a town. This wasn’t big enough to offer merchants to sell my wares to, but hopefully there was a place to get a room for the night.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, taking a step toward me. Her body language wasn’t menacing, though, and her face read of helpfulness, so I took a breath as I decided to trust her.

 

“To tell the truth, I don’t really know where I am.”

 

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Whatever she had been expecting, that certainly wasn’t it. After a moment’s recovery, she advised, “You’re in Shor’s Stone, in the Rift. We’re just a little mining settlement north of Riften.”

 

_Riften_. The name itself wasn’t familiar, but there was something about it … or, rather, something about the letter _R_. I had a feeling that a place that started with _R_ would hold answers for me, and though I had a feeling it wasn’t Riften, perhaps it could be a good starting point. If nothing else, they would surely have the merchants I would need in order to offload my goods. “About how far?” I asked.

 

She shook her head. “Too far to make it before nightfall.”

 

_Drat_. “Well, is there a place where I can buy a room?”

 

“No, unfortunately we’re too small for an inn,” she said with a gentle laugh. “But I have room in my house if you’d like to stay with me for the night.”

 

I was a little taken aback by her generosity, but I wasn’t about to say no. “Alright. I have some gold I can give you.”

 

She smiled as she shook her head. “For a bit of food I have plenty of and a bed I’m not using, I couldn’t. Name’s Sylgja,” she said as she offered her hand.

 

I gripped her wrist. “Joanna.”

 

Her house wasn’t but a few steps away, and she invited me in with no hesitation. It was a small cottage, but perfect for Sylgja, perhaps even a little bigger than she needed. She gestured for me to sit at the table as she stoked the fire before stirring the contents of a cooking pot. “I’ve had this stew going since early afternoon, it should be nice and tasty by now.” When she lifted the lid of the pot, a lovely aromatic smell filled the cottage and made my mouth water. At that moment I suddenly realized just how hungry I was.

 

The stew tasted even better than it smelled, it that was possible, and the ale that Sylgja offered washed it down well. I savoured it as much as I could, but I was almost halfway done by the time she finally sat down at the table with me. “So, Joanna,” she started as she blew on her spoonful of stew, “What brings you all the way out here?”

 

I swallowed a mouthful of ale, considering how to explain myself before I replied. “Well, I’m not entirely sure, really.”

 

She perked up at that. “How do you mean?”

 

I bit my lip as I moved the veggies around in my bowl. “I mean, I was kidnapped … I think a while ago … by this dark wizard. I’m not sure exactly how, but this ring helped break me out of the stupor he’d put me in. Thing is … I don’t really remember much. I know my name, and I know that a town that starts with _R_ holds some sort of significance to me.”

 

“Riften, you think? It’s the hold capitol, so it’s fairly big.”

 

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. But, I think it would be a good starting point. I could at least unload some things I found in the cave we were in, get up a little gold, maybe get some armor.”

 

She nodded. “It is the closest. Actually …” she paused as she got up from the table, digging in a dresser until she found what she was looking for and brought it to the table. “… I have a map here of Skyrim you could use. I know most of these places like the back of my hand, and those that I don’t, I don’t really need.” She spread the map out on the table and pointed out where Shor’s Stone was located and where Riften was and where the major cities and settlements were. There were a couple of places that I mentally marked in my mind as places I wanted to visit, but Riften was still going to be my first stop.

 

“So, Sylgja, what about you?” I asked, feeling a little self-conscious as most of the conversation had been revolving around me. “What brings you out here to a simple mining settlement?”

 

She shrugged. “Oh, the usual. Just make some good money before I close up and retire in a hold capitol. Maybe find a nice woman to marry,” she winked at me.

 

I blushed a little at her admission. “You work in the mine? Really? With all the men?”

 

She laughed. “Yes, I know it seems a little strange, but as long as you pull your weight the crew here doesn’t mind too much what goods you carry in your undergarments.”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh as she grinned widely, finishing off her own bowl of stew. She told me about her parents, Verner and Annekke, who lived in Darkwater Crossing, another mining settlement further north. I’d asked her why she moved to Shor’s Stone instead of staying with her family, and she confided that the mine here, while it normally held iron ore, also had quicksilver and ebony ore veins, so she got paid better. I was a bit surprised there were only a couple of hold guards in the area because of that, but she laughed and rolled her eyes and said they didn’t care enough. I felt rather sorry for her, being more vulnerable to bandits, but she didn’t seem afraid as she drained the last of her ale.

 

Later that night, I let down my hood and loosened my robe, taking off the outer layer so I could comfortably sleep. My nerves still felt a bit raw, but I had to try to get some sleep before I started out for Riften the next day. It wasn’t too terribly far away, but I didn’t want to spend much time traveling, for fear of what I could encounter on the road. Similarly, Sylgja settled down to bed on the opposite side of the cottage, lightly snoring as she drifted off to sleep. I regarded her face in the flickering firelight. She was rather pretty, especially for a mine worker. She probably could have made a pretty penny working as a barmaid in a tavern, but then again she would have to deal with drunk patrons groping her every night, so I could understand her career choice.

 

A light rain gently pattered against the roof as I laid in bed, my mind wandering as I carefully formulated a plan for the next day, the next week, hell the next month if I was that lucky. I didn’t want to flounder forever in uncertainty, I wanted to remember who I really was, who my family was. For some reason that felt very important to me, though I couldn’t quite say why just yet. I eventually fell asleep as a light rumble of thunder rolled overhead and a log in the hearth cracked in response. Even though I had a number of questions still, for now I felt I was in a safe place with Sylgja, and that’s all that ultimately mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is in progress, and hopefully will be finished soon (I'm working on it now, actually).

I woke early, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. It was perfect timing, really, as I figured I would be able to easily make my way to Riften before heavier foot traffic attracted bandits and thieves.

 

Sylgja was still sleeping, so I quietly wrapped my brown robe around me and pulled my hood up. I grabbed my boots but kept them in hand, preferring to put them on outside so as to make the least amount of noise possible and avoid disturbing my gracious host. I quietly grabbed my pack and crept past Sylgja’s bed, pausing only when she turned over in her sleep, sighing softly in her dream. The low firelight cast a lovely glow over her pretty face, and I couldn’t help but think that perhaps, in another lifetime, I might have been hers.

 

Before I left, I dug into my knapsack and grabbed a handful of septims. It wasn’t much, and I knew Sylgja had said she didn’t want any money, but I felt bad about availing myself of her food and her bed with no compensation. I didn’t have to leave anything, but on the other hand she didn’t have to help me in my hour of need, so I figured we were even. I left the small pile on the table before I slowly opened the door and slipped outside.

 

I paused on her porch so I could pull on my boots, and it seemed that the only other soul awake in Shor’s Stone was the blacksmith, who was already at work on his forge. It was quite early still, and the rising sun hadn’t fully burned away the mist that still hung in the air, trapped between the trees and the cool earth. The air was sharp and cool, though I knew that by afternoon it would be pretty warm, yet another reason to get this journey over with before the heat of the day set in. I took out the map Sylgja had given me and traced the road to Riften, aligning myself with the correct path before I folded the map back up and slipped it into a pouch on the outside of my sack.

 

I kept an eye and an ear out for danger, but I couldn’t help but observe the beauty of the Rift as I passed through. Tall trees were scattered as far as the eye could see, some of their leaves changing and falling to the ground, providing a crunchy carpet that helped keep an ear out for any suspicious beings. As the sun rose higher and higher and the cool mist dissipated, I could even make out mountains in the distance, rising high and sharp against the sky before falling away.

 

Within a couple of hours, I passed by some guard towers and finally saw the stables in the distance. My heart could have sang, it was already getting warm enough so that I was working up a bit of a sweat in my hooded robes. I’d kept my hood up with traveling, but now that I was close enough I pushed my hood back and ran my fingers through my red-brown hair, wiping my forehead of sweat before I approached the gate. I was eager to get inside and sell what I had, so it was quite a surprise when the guard ordered me to stop before I made it to the gate itself.

 

“Hold there!” one of the guards at the gate exclaimed. “Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor’s tax.”

 

My breath caught in my throat. Visitor’s tax? Sylgja had mentioned no such thing, and I didn’t have but a handful of Septims on me at the moment. “What’s the tax for?” I asked, too surprised that they were asking for money to enter the hold capitol to say anything else at this point.

 

“For the privilege of entering the city,” the guard replied gruffly. “What’s it matter?”

 

Uh huh. If it had been legitimate, the guards would be versed enough in the code to say exactly what the tax was for. Seemed like someone was trying to make a quick buck on the side. I shifted my stance to my other leg and rested a hand on my hip before I chose my words carefully. “This is obviously a shakedown.”

 

“Alright, alright, keep your voice down. You want everyone to hear you?” the guard said, caving rather quickly as his partner on the other side of the gate looked away, as if they weren’t listening to what was happening. “I’ll let you in, just let me unlock the gate.” He turned and walked over to the large wooden gate, pulling a key out of his uniform as he approached. When he had finished, he turned around and walked back to where I was standing. “The gate’s unlocked now, you can head inside when you’re ready.”

 

I narrowed my eyes as I walked past him, to let him know that I would be keeping my eye out for him before I opened the gate just enough so I could enter and slipped through.

 

Riften was a town built partially over a lake, with canals cutting through the lower level, making it easy for fishermen to enter and exit the city without having to go through the main entrance. As a result, there was an earthy, musty smell to the city with a faint odor of fish that hung in the air that would likely never leave even if the fishermen managed to fish the lake dry. I adjusted my pack on my shoulder as I walked through the entrance, passing by a blond Nord warrior in banded iron armor on my way into the heart of the city. I overheard her talking to a smaller man, saying in a thick Nord accent, “I had another run in with the Thieve’s Guild …” My ears perked at that, and I became even more eager to rid myself of anything valuable and consolidate.

 

As it happened, I was in luck, as a nice Dunmer merchant by the name of Brand-Shei bought most of the miscellaneous goods I’d managed to grab, and of the things he didn’t want, he directed me to who I could sell it to. Madesi, an Argonian craftsman, took the loose gems from me, and Bersi Honey-Hand took the robes, the spell tomes, and scrolls I’d found. He took a couple of alchemical ingredients I had as well, and gave me directions on how to get to Elgrim’s Elixers on the lower levels of the city, whom he assured me would take the rest.

 

I wasn’t exactly excited about visiting the lower level, but at least most of my goods were gone. I peered around before I hurriedly descended the stairs by the Pawned Prawn, making a beeline straight for the alchemy shop while keeping an eye out for any sordid types that might try to pickpocket me.

 

Elgrim’s Elixers was a little hole in the wall, damp and musty smelling. I figured the shop owner might think it useful to keep it damp and grow certain strains of mushrooms for selling, however I couldn’t help but wonder how one’s lungs would be after living in such dankness for a while. As I walked in, an older gentlemen sat grumbling at a table in the corner, not acknowledging me at all. I waited for a moment and then cleared my throat. While he still didn’t pay me any mind, an older woman appeared from around the corner. “Elgrim! Why must you be so rude to customers?” she scolded before she turned to me and approached the counter, smiling. “I’m sorry, my husband is in one of his moods. My name is Hafjorg, what can I get for you?”

 

While Elgrim seemed rather hostile to customers, his wife was the exact opposite, and was extremely helpful. She relieved me of the remainder of alchemical ingredients I had, and cut me a deal on a couple of health potions that I thought I might need down the road. By the time I left the shop, my sack was otherwise empty of goods, save for my map and dagger and newly accumulated gold.

 

Now that I had some gold, I was going to look into investing in a set of armor, and maybe a sword. First things first, though, I needed to sit down and eat something, and The Bee and Barb had exactly what I needed.

 

I ascended the stairs so quickly I almost ran smack into a young Nord woman, who stopped short in surprise. I apologized, and she took it in stride as she descended the stairs and, to my surprise, entered the alchemy shop I’d just exited. I had to wonder what she was after as I crossed the path that led straight to the local tavern.

 

As I entered, I was quite surprised to see a priest of Mara giving a sermon about the evils of overindulgence. I wasn’t sure this was quite the appropriate place to be giving a speech like that, but I chose not to say anything to him as I slipped into the seating area and sat at a table next to the wall, my back to the bar, facing the entrance. I kept my sack on my lap, not trusting the area enough to leave it hanging on the back of my chair, especially after hearing mention of a Thieve’s Guild.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a male Argonian approach the priest of Mara and ask him to stop preaching in the tavern. After a little back and forth, the priest eventually left, leaving the Argonian shaking his head as he made his way to my table. “Welcome to The Bee and the Barb, traveler. If I can interest you in one of our special drinks, you let me know, yes?”

 

Well, he was quite polite. It seemed that people in Riften were a bit hit or miss so far, and I made mental notes as to which were which. “Thank you, but I think I’ll just have an ale, and maybe some spiced beef, if you have it.”

 

“Of course,” he said with a slight bow. “I’ll fetch it for you.” He disappeared only for a few minutes before he appeared again with a plate and a bottle. “That will be 9 septims.”

 

I counted out 12 and handed it to him, and he took it graciously with a slight bow before he went back to the bar area where he started wiping out mugs and goblets with a towel that he had hanging around his waist. The ale was pretty typical fare, nothing spectacular as to be expected. The spiced beef was surprisingly succulent and tasty. I had to formalize a game plan, I couldn’t live off of what I made selling loot for long, especially if I invested in a set of armor. I was going to have to figure out what to do for food and shelter. I wasn’t confident enough to go out adventuring, and my options in the city were pretty damn slim. I finished up the beef and sipped on the ale as I considered my options, none of them particularly good at the moment. I was actually considering going back to Shor’s Stone and asking Sylgja if she could get me hired at the mine when a rather handsome gentleman suddenly plopped himself down at my table, uninvited. He gave me what I’m sure he thought was a debonair smirk as he said, “Running a little light in the pockets, lass?”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

“I’m saying looks like you could use a little extra coin, and I could use an extra set of hands for a job.”

 

I perked up a little, but cautiously. While he wasn’t overtly sleazy, he didn’t really look like he could be trusted. “What kind of job, exactly?”

 

He grinned widely as he popped a jazbay grape in his mouth. “I have a certain client who wants to see a certain stall keeper put out of business permanently, that’s all you really need to know.”

 

“Stall keeper? You mean out in the town square?”

 

He nodded as he continued, “I need you to steal Madesi’s silver ring from his strongbox and plant it on Brand-Shei. I can take care of the distraction, and I’ll pay you a nice sum of gold for doing it.”

 

My eyebrows creased as I realized what he was asking me to do. Not only was I not the thieving type, but after my interactions with them, I could never do something like that to Madesi and Brand-Shei! Granted I’d only really had one interaction with them, but they came across as nice, honest men who worked hard for their coin. I wasn’t sure who might have it out for Brand-Shei, but I wanted no part of it. “You mean steal?” I asked, just a little above a whisper.

 

“Well, yes lass, that is the gist of it.”

 

I frowned in response. “I’d never do something like that to Brand-Shei, I don’t care who wants to take him down. Leave me out of your little scheme.”

 

“Alright, fine, I can see I was wrong in my assessment of you. It’s not often that happens, but it happens.” He raised his hands as if in surrender as he stood up. “Sorry to bother you.”

 

I sighed as he left my table and walked out of the tavern. I was a little worried about what might happen to Brand-Shei, but after my experience at the front gate, I wasn’t willing to trust any of the guards. I supposed the most I could do, after I finished my ale, was to personally warn Brand-Shei to look out for himself. Who knows, he might already be doing so, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to mention something.

 

Almost as soon as the man left my table, the female Nord warrior I’d seen earlier sat in the chair he’d just vacated. “Was that man bothering you?” she asked, her accent thick.

 

I shrugged. “A little, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

 

“Aye, good thing, then. That man is nothing but trouble.”

 

I was curious now. “Who is he?”

 

“His name is Brynjolf. He runs a stall in the marketplace, cheap potions, mostly scams. They say he’s connected to the Thieve’s Guild, but no one can pin anything on him.”

 

I felt a shiver run down my spine at hearing that. “I think you’re right about him being in the Thieve’s Guild, he just asked me to steal a ring and plant it on Brand-Shei.”

 

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “He did? Well that’s something I could go to the guards with …”

 

“No!” I said, rather forcefully, unintentionally. I looked around the tavern, saw that nobody had noticed us, and then repeated, at a lower volume, “No, don’t go to the guards, I think some of them are in on it. This morning, when I tried to enter Riften, one of them tried to make me pay a ‘visitor’s tax’ … a tax that was going to go directly into his pocket.”

 

Her eyebrows furrowed as she was seemingly deep in thought. “Well, then, that’s something to consider …”

 

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to make things worse for Brand-Shei.”

 

“No, you’re right. We don’t want to try to tip off the wrong guard.” She tapped her lip as she thought for a moment before she shook her head. “I’ll think on it later.” She smiled at me warmly as she asked, “So, what are you doing in Riften?”

 

I shrugged. “Well, trying to figure out a plan, really. I broke out of a thrall spell a dark wizard had put on me, killed him, then took what I could and ran. Sylgja in Shor’s Stone gave me a map and a place to rest and I decided to come here to sell what I had and try to figure out where to go from here … I honestly don’t have a whole lot of gold, though, and I don’t have many options, so I was thinking of going back to Sylgja and seeing if I could get a job in the mine.”

 

“Oh, I would hold off on getting a mining job right now,” she said. “Mining settlements are prime targets for skirmishes on both sides.”

 

“Huh? Both sides of what?”

 

“The civil war here in Skyrim. How long were you under that spell?”

 

“I … I don’t know. I don’t really remember a whole lot, besides my name.”

 

“Shor’s bones, I just realized, I never introduced myself proper. Name’s Mjoll, though some call me the Lioness.”

 

Lioness seemed to suit her, as her wild blond hair was just barely tamed into braids, and her piercing eyes were a golden yellow colour. There was a certain warmth to them, however, just like her smile. Hints of her rough past were still evident on her, though, as she had three small scars across her left cheekbone. If anything, they added to her rugged beauty. I found myself smiling at her as I gave her my name. “I’m Joanna.”

 

At that moment, the smaller man I’d seen her talking to before approached the table with two bottles in hand. “I got you the usual, Mjoll, Nord Mead.”

 

“Aye, thank you,” she said as she took a bottle from him, uncorked it, and took a sip as he did the same. “I was just talking to my new friend, here, Joanna. Seems she’s uncovered a plot afoot that smells like Thieve’s Guild.”

 

“Well just be careful, Mjoll, their strength may be waning but they can still have people put away, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

 

She waved him off. “You’re too overprotective, Aerin. I _am_ a seasoned adventurer, after all, there’s little I can’t handle shy of a Dwemer ruin.”

 

That seemed to shut him up as he just took another sip of mead and didn’t say anything further.

 

“You say you don’t have a place to stay?” Mjoll asked.

 

“No. I could probably rent a room for a little while, but what I have won’t last long. I’m going to need to find a way to make some gold, and I don’t have many prospects right now. Really, about the _only_ options I have are going back to the mine or … selling the only goods I have left,” I said as I motioned to my body, my meaning not lost.

 

She shook her head. “No woman should be in the position of being forced into a mine or selling her body against her will. Tell you what, I have a pretty soft sleep roll, you can bunk with me at Aerin’s place, and I can teach you a few things about fighting. At the very least, you’ll be able to defend yourself in the wilds, if not be able to turn that around into more gold for you.”

 

I straightened in my chair. “You would do that for me?”

 

“Of course. It’s my duty in life to help those in need, and at this time you are in need, so I’m offering my help.”

 

I smiled. “I’ll take you up on it. I was going to invest in a set of armor anyway, maybe you can give me some advice of what to look for.”

 

She brightened up considerably, her eyes lighting up. “Of course! Weapons and armor are two of my specialties, I’ll teach you anything you need to know. By the time we’re done, you’ll be more than fit to survive anywhere in Skyrim.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished up this chapter, and I figured since I've been a little update happy today, I'd go ahead and post it. Joanna is being relentless with me, but I'm hoping to update my Cap fic next, just FYI.

When Mjoll said she would have me fit to survive anywhere in Skyrim, she wasn’t kidding. As soon as her and Aerin finished up their breakfast in The Bee and Barb, we went straight back to Aerin’s house. Mjoll gave me a set of hide armor she kept for practice, “As that’s the only thing it’s good for.” I didn’t doubt her, and I donned the armor she gave me, adjusting it as much as possible on my smaller frame. When I bought a set of my own armor, I would make sure it fit well, but for now this would do. It was much better - and much more freeing - than the hooded brown robes I’d been wearing. Even though it was armor, I felt positively light compared to the restrictive robes. I pulled my hair back into a braid to keep it out of my face and fastened my ebony dagger to my waist, as per Mjoll’s instructions. I had been initially hesitant, for fear that someone would target me thinking I had more to steal, but she assured me that an outward show of being able to defend yourself, even if it’s just a fancy dagger, can deter some thieves. I trusted her judgement, but decided I’d stick close to her anyway, just in case. Without knowing her, she had quite the intimidating presence, just like a real lion, even though she was really more like a playful kitten.

 

I met Mjoll in Aerin’s backyard, where she stood, her banded armor having been traded in for a loose shirt and brown pants. She stood there stretching as Aerin sat off to the side, whittling a piece of wood with an iron dagger. She smiled brightly when she saw me. “Managed with the armor just fine, then?”

 

I nodded. “It’s a little loose, but it’s as good as it’s going to get.”

 

She chuckled. “Aye, you’re a wee wisp compared to me. But I can teach you to use that to your advantage.”

 

Unfortunately, those lessons were not going to be anytime soon, as she started me off with some rigorous calisthenics. I was eager to get to the weapons training, but she insisted on starting off with getting my stamina up. “All the weapons training in the world with do you no good if you can’t last in battle.” I sighed heavily as I supposed she was right, being the expert and all, but I felt like I had wasted so much of my life already, I wanted to hurry up and find myself and get back on whatever path I’d been started on.

 

I was determined to follow Mjoll’s advice, however, as I trusted her to know what she was doing. That first day she ran me ragged, to the point where I felt I could barely move. It was only with great encouragement that she was able to get me to get up from the dinner table that night, and even then I moaned and groaned as my muscles protested angrily.

 

As I entered the room I shared with Mjoll, I was surprised to see that she’d drawn a bath for me, the steam radiating off the top of the water. “You’ll be plenty sore tomorrow as it is, might as well do all you can to ease it,” she cooed as she shut the door behind us and helped me with the buckles and straps on the armor. As the last of my clothing fell off, I felt a little self-conscious about being totally naked with the Nord woman in the room, but she drew no attention to it as she helped lower me into the bath. “Soak until the water cools,” she directed me, and I was certainly in no position to say no as I nodded and leaned back with a groan against the edge of tub.

 

I closed my eyes and I swear I must have dozed some as the warm water surrounded my body and eased the soreness in my muscles. I had no doubt I was going to sleep well tonight, I was far too tired to even think of doing anything. Perhaps that would be a good thing, it would keep me out of any potential trouble that I figured could be easily sought in Riften.

 

As soon as the water lost it’s warmth, I called out to Mjoll and she helped me out of the bath. I definitely would not have been able to get out otherwise, and she handed me a cloth to dry off with as she started stripping her own clothes off. I asked, puzzled, “You’re going to bathe, too?”

 

She guffawed. “I may be in better shape than you, but I still sweat just as much.” I looked away as the rest of her clothes dropped to the floor, but I couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the toned, muscled, well-built body of the Lioness before she lowered herself into the bath. I took a deep breath and finished drying, pulling on what clothes I could before collapsing in the sleep roll. I was fast asleep before Mjoll even finished bathing.

 

Before I knew it, I was being shaken awake. I blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the haze as all I initially saw was a mass of blond hair and yellow eyes. Mjoll’s smiling face eventually came into focus as she said with a gentle lilt, “Time to get up. Nobody’s out but the guards, so we can get in a good run around Riften without anybody getting nosey with us.”

 

I groaned at the thought of a run, but nodded. “Give me a moment.”

 

She tapped my shoulder playfully and exited the room, leaving me to wake up and dress on my own. I rubbed the sleepy bits out of my eyes before I rebraided my hair and pulled on the hide armor, making sure the fasten my dagger securely at my waist. If we were going for a run, I definitely didn’t want to drop it.

 

I was still yawning as I entered the dining room area, where Mjoll was already eating. I wasn’t sure I even had the energy to chew, much less go on a run, but she shoved a plate of venison steak in front of me. “If you’re going to expend energy, you need to take in energy. Eat up.” I was in no position to argue as I cut off a piece and dug in. Once I started to eat, I realized just how hungry I was, and I easily ate the rest of the steak by myself.

 

As soon as we were done, Mjoll was pushing me out the door, leaving Aerin behind as she led me in some warmup stretching. I couldn’t help but jokingly ask if she always stretched before she fought, and she laughed heartily before she replied, “No, one doesn’t always get the chance to properly stretch before battle. But, during training, it doesn’t do to take unnecessary risks.”

 

As always, she had a point, I had to concede to that. After a quick warm up, we went on the promised run, that involved not just running _around_ Riften, but thoroughly through it, over the upper and lower levels. I hesitated just for a second before I followed her down the stairs to the lower levels, not very comfortable going there, but I figured no one would bother me while I accompanied Mjoll. Anyone remotely unfriendly seemed to give her a wide berth. By the time we had finished some laps on the lower level, I had to concentrate just to keep up with her as we ran up the stairs.

 

Thankfully, she jogged back to Aerin’s house after we ascended to the upper level again. My lungs felt like they were going to burst and I was starting to get a cramp in my side. I could see her chuckling at me out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t bring myself to care as I leaned over, propping myself up on my knees. I knew she could probably go for a while yet, so I was grateful she’d stopped us when she did. It was definitely going to take a while until my stamina was even close to being in the same neighborhood as hers.

 

Over the next few weeks, we focused solely on building up my stamina. I had asked her about weapons training, but she said insisted that stamina would be my most useful weapon. I had to defer to her knowledge as I dutifully kept up with her, sometimes just barely. I did start to see an improvement, however, as I didn’t get winded as easily and at night I didn’t seem to be as exhausted and sore as I was that first day, though we both still ended the night with a soak.

 

When she _finally_ announced she was going to start some weapons training with me, I felt like I was on the moons, I was so happy. My happiness was a little more contained when she presented me with a bow and a quiver of arrows. “I thought you were going to teach me how to fight, not how to hunt.”

 

She laughed heartily as she replied, “You’d be surprised how often they can be the same thing.”

 

“I suppose,” I mumbled as I strapped on the quiver before I followed her outside. She had set up some targets for me in the backyard and she called me over to where she wanted me to stand. She gave me directions on how to stand and how to draw and pointers on aiming before she let me loose a few. My first two went wide of the target she wanted me to hit, though my third did sink into it on the outside. _Ai_. I was going to need a lot of training if she really wanted me to focus on archery. She critiqued my stance a little more and gave me a few more directions on aiming before she let me loose a few more.

 

This time, all three arrows hit the target, two on the outside and one actually in the middle ring. I was excited, and Mjoll seemed pleased, though obviously she wanted me to be even better. And I wanted to be better, for her if for no other reason. As she stood close to me, adjusting my arms and legs in my stance, I felt her touch leave goosebumps in its wake, as I suppressed the shiver that wanted to run down my spine at feeling her so close to me. It was becoming a little harder to focus as I could _feel_ her breathing, and my mind kept flashing back to all those nights in the bath …

 

I jumped as I let loose another arrow, and it shot wide. I cursed under my breath as I loaded another and tried again, this time forcing out all other thoughts in favour of the target before me. I was determined to get at least one bull’s eye.

 

We only broke for lunch that day as she kept me shooting. By the end of the day, my fingers were blistered and sore … but I’d gotten three bull’s eyes. I felt confident that I was starting to get it. Mjoll was an excellent teacher, of course, but I felt that this would actually be a useful skill once I left Riften. After all, I wouldn’t have to worry too much about food, and I could sell pelts pretty easily or use them myself. Mjoll advised me to ask Balimund for a few lessons at the forge, so I could at the very least repair my own armor and weapons. “Everyone wants to know how to swing a warhammer or smash with a shield, they rarely think of the useful skills that make life as an adventurer easier.” She certainly was seeing to me having a well-rounded education, for that I didn’t think I would ever truly be able to repay her.

 

Later that night, we skipped the bath as neither of us really worked up a sweat and my muscles were getting used to the strain I was putting on them lately, so I wasn’t that sore. I saw on my sleep roll, reading _The Marksmanship Lesson_. Mjoll had lent me a few books to read that she said would either directly or indirectly help me, and so I was digging in now that I wasn’t completely exhausted by day’s end.

 

I wiggled my toes into the soft fur of the sleep roll, having taken my boots off. In fact, I’d already taken off my hide armor, leaving myself only in a long sleep shirt and my long hair free of its braid. I pulled it all over one shoulder, letting a few tendrils sweep the pages of the book as I sat there reading, lost in the pages. I couldn’t remember if I’d be able to read before I was snatched or if the wizard had taught me, but either way I was ultimately grateful that I could. Not everybody was so lucky to have this skill, I was aware, and I was thankful that I had acquired it, however I had done so.

 

I was so focused on the book that I didn’t even hear Mjoll enter the room. It was only when I heard her footsteps make a floorboard squeak that I looked up to see her dressed similarly. She smiled gently when she saw me reading the books she’d given to me to study, and she crossed the floor to where I was sitting and joined me on the sleep roll. “Which one are you reading?” she asked.

 

“ _The Marksmanship Lesson_ ,” I replied. “I figured since we were covering archery today, I should follow along with it, to really enforce the lessons.”

 

Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “You’re a good student,” she said, almost purring. I blushed a little, unsure what to make of what she said, how she said it, and how it made my heart pound just a little harder. I felt her fingers thread themselves through my hair as I kept my eyes on my book, finding it harder and harder to focus on the words themselves. I felt the soft whisper of her lips against my temple before she whispered in my ear, “Don’t stay up too late, we’re still getting up early tomorrow.”

 

My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my rib cage as she rose and went to go to bed, snuffing out all but the candle that sat on the table behind me, which granted me enough light to read by. I tried to refocus on the words on the page, but after that last little interaction, I found I couldn’t focus again and I finally gave up, marking the page I was on with a ribbon and blowing out the candle before slipping into the sleep roll. Even in the dark, my cheeks heated as I thought back to that shared moment, the feel of her fingers running through my hair and her lips against my skin. I shifted uncomfortably in my sleep roll for a minute before I shut out that line of thinking and settled down to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter, but it's mostly smut, so there ya go. Warning, I have added the appropriate tags, but just in case someone doesn't see them: lesbian sex ahead! If you don't like reading about it, I suggest skipping this chapter.

The next morning, she started drilling me with archery again. She said depending on how well I did, she’d start alternating training between archery and calisthenics, to keep my stamina going strong. I was eager to prove myself to her, and I threw myself into it. Keeping in mind all of her tips and accepting any correction from her and advice she offered. Even though Mjoll herself was distracting at times, I didn’t allow it to affect me, though one or two shots went wide just because the wind blew at the right time and lifted her shirt, exposing her hard abs or the the curve of her breast before she caught it. It looked like rain was rolling in, but only a light patter had started before Mjoll called it a day and we headed back inside.

 

In the end, it was quite the successful day. I wasn’t sure if it was just me, or if reading the book the previous night helped, but I was catching on well, and Mjoll even complemented me on it.

 

The rain slowly got heavier until it was a downpour, almost drowning out our dinner conversation at times. Aerin was very inquisitive as to the training I was taking, and Mjoll even offered to include him, but he declined. I was actually a little surprised, as he was usually following Mjoll around like a lost puppy. But I didn’t say anything as that meant I got her all to myself.

 

That night, I finished _The Marksmanship Lesson_ as Mjoll lounged on her bed, doing a quick repair on a small part of her normal set of banded iron armor that she wore when we weren’t training. As I closed the book and set it on the table, Mjoll shifted in the bed and her long sleep shirt rode up, exposing her muscled leg. I hadn’t been paying much attention, but the collar of the shirt was also hanging off of her shoulder, teasing the tops of her breasts as she stitched a piece of armor backing together. I bit my lip as I left the room, finding a bucket of clean, cold water to splash my face with. My cheeks still felt a bit warm and I hoped that the blush I was feeling didn’t show as I wiped the water off my face with my sleeve before I walked back in the room, intending on just lying down and _trying_ to go to sleep. Trying be the key word, here, as I doubted I would be able to fall asleep with visions of the warrior woman running through my head.

 

As I stepped back inside, Mjoll smiled warmly at me as she set aside the armor, finished with her repair. I turned to make sure the door latched completely when shut, and between me checking the door and turning back around, Mjoll was standing in front of me, so close I jumped, startled at how close she was. She reached up to gently tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “When I’ve finished teaching you, will you be leaving Riften?” she asked.

 

I nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Will you ever come back?” There was an ache in her voice that I felt probably echoed my own.

 

“I … I don’t know,” I replied honestly. I didn’t have much of a plan besides visiting a few places, though that plan was pretty loose and I wasn’t sure where my adventures would really end up taking me. As I looked into her sweet eyes, I whispered, “Maybe.”

 

She nodded as her hand cupped my cheek, her thumb sweeping over my cheekbone as she suddenly leaned close to me. I closed my eyes on instinct and felt her warm breath against my lips for just a second before I felt our lips connect. When we parted, she remained close as she whispered, “Come back to me.”

 

I felt emboldened by her action and I closed the gap between us, wrapping my arms around her waist and tugging her against me so that our bodies were flush as I kissed her again, and again, and she returned the kisses with increasing intensity. I wasn’t sure how or when we ended up on her bed, tangled up in kisses, Mjoll’s skilled hands tracing lines up and down my body before slipping up my sleep shirt. I moaned and my eyes half closed as my head hit the pillow, feeling her slim fingers brush against my outer lips. I wanted more, and she seemed eager to give more as playfully bit at my neck while her fingers explored even more. She lazily circled my clit as she softly kissed and sucked at the crook of my neck. It felt good, but I wanted even more as my hips involuntarily bucked when her fingers slipped past my opening, my breath quickening as my fingers tangled in her hair.

 

Our lips connected again and she must have wanted to stifle the moan she knew would come as she finally slipped a finger inside. She worked a slow and lazy rhythm, eventually adding a second finger until my body was screaming for release. Mjoll knew exactly what she was doing to me, and she purposefully drew it out, teasing my clit as she slowly worked her fingers. Suddenly, she stopped and withdrew her fingers, and I involuntarily whimpered from the loss of contact. I bit my lip as she sucked my juices from one of her fingers before she offered one to me, and I gladly cleaned it for her. Her yellow eyes had darkened with lust as pulled off her sleep shirt, tugging on my own so I would remove mine as well. I complied as quickly as I could in my hazy, lust-filled state, and as soon as we were clear of any clothing, we connected again, hip to hip, breast to breast, mouth to mouth. I felt her tug the string that held my braid in place as she threaded her fingers through my thick hair, her short fingernails gently scraping against sensitive spots on my skull that made me shiver in response. My wetness was leaving trails on my thighs, and I needed some reprieve. Fortunately, I was to get it soon.

 

Mjoll laid me back on the bed, kissing my mouth, my cheek, my neck before she trailed down to my breasts. Mine were not particularly sensitive, not as much as other women, but I couldn’t help the rush it gave me to watch a nipple disappear into her warm, wet mouth. She didn’t linger long there, though, as she moved further down, past my stomach and my hips until she spread my legs and licked her lips, looking at me in the eye with anticipation before she dipped down to have a taste from the source.

 

I clamped a hand over my mouth to prevent the loud moan from being heard by the other occupant of the house. I wasn’t sure what Aerin would think if he were to hear the sounds of the woman he obviously loved and pined after taking another woman, but I couldn’t find it in me to care at the moment as Mjoll’s slick tongue worked in circles around my clit. I shuddered as she added a finger to her ministrations, and then another as she started that same lazy rhythm back up, and I gripped the blanket as my legs shook with the intensity. At first, she was as painfully slow as she was before, but she mercifully started to speed up, and I bucked my hips and moaned softly to motivate her for _more_. More pressure, more speed, more _anything_ as I squeezed my eyes shut, teetering at the edge for what seemed like forever until finally Mjoll pushed me over the edge and my body seized with orgasm. It took a few minutes to come down, and by then Mjoll had kissed back up my body and was kissing me again, my own taste lingering on her tongue.

 

When I was able to come to my senses, I pushed her over to lie on the bed. It was time for me to return the favour, and I was hungry to do so. She eagerly let me take over as my fingers massaged her breasts, enjoying the sounds of her moans before I couldn’t take anymore and went straight for what I wanted. Her blond curls were sparse and thin and I gently parted her lower lips before I took a long lick up her slit. The gasp it produced made me smile and I did it again, concentrating pressure around her clit and she bucked into my tongue, ready for more. I toyed with her clit, circling and flicking it before taking it in my mouth and sucking on it as she moaned and grasped my hair, wanting more. I hooked my arm around her leg so my fingers could work on her clit while my tongue went lower, spearing her, teasingly at first but then deeper, as deep as I could. She rocked her hips against me, to the point where I could barely breathe at times, but I didn’t care. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and she was simply a squirming mass of pleasure, searching for her own release. I rubbed her clit before going up to suck on it and she was so, so close, her face strained. I sucked even harder and that was it, that was all she could take as her orgasm came roaring like a lion, her hoarse moan muffled as she turned and pulled her pillow over her mouth, unable to contain the sounds she was making. I lapped up all of the juices that were spilling over until she was clean and her body simply shook with the aftershocks of pleasure. I hovered over her, kissing her softly, almost chastely before I smiled. She smiled lazily in return and kissed me once more before she whispered, “Sleep with me tonight?”

 

I nodded. “As you wish.” She held me close to her, our naked bodies entangled in each other under the blankets as the rain gently pelted against the window, the sounds helping to lull us to sleep in the wake of our combined pleasure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, I got pretty sick last week. I'm feeling much better now, though. :)
> 
> Also, of note, while this chapter doesn't contain explicit sex like the last chapter, there's still some nsfw bits in there. If that makes you uncomfortable, either read with caution or skip this chapter. You have been warned!

And so we fell into a gentle lull. During the day, she would train me, in anything from stamina and endurance, to archery, to sneaking and blade work when she finally felt I was ready for it. I apparently excelled well in throwing daggers and two-handed swords, and she pressed me to do my very best. At night, our positions of teacher and student changed to that of lovers, and she shared her bed - and more - with me. Though we both knew this would be short lived, we drew whatever comfort we could from each other, whether that comfort was that of lust-filled sighs and longing or simply the feel of skin on skin and being in the moment. Though during the day, we were always careful to hide our dalliances from Aerin, once our door closed, we were all over each other, unable to wait to taste and feel and simply _be_.

 

One night, after we settled in next to each other after a particularly intense orgasm from each of us, I asked her why she simply didn’t tell Aerin about her preferences. He was obviously interested in her, and I thought it a tad cruel to keep him out of the loop.

 

She sighed as she pulled my leg over her own, tracing the new muscles that were forming thanks to her training. “I don’t know,” she replied. “Aerin has done so much for me, been there for me in ways that others haven’t. I appreciate him and love him for that, but I can’t love him the way he wants me to. I suppose I’m a bit embarrassed, for both him and me, that I’m just not interested in men. I’m … afraid that if I were to tell him the truth, I would lose my friendship with him.”

 

I hummed a noncommittal reply before I said, “If he really was your friend, don’t you think he would understand?”

 

She chuckled underneath her breath. “I suppose so. Still … I would hate to risk it.”

 

I could have said more at that point. I could have pointed out that if he did react unfavourably that he wasn’t truly her friend to begin with. I could have said that if that was the case, wouldn’t she want to know? I could have said that, if that was the case, wasn’t it rather creepy that he saved her and took care of her and expected her to love him, as if that was the only possible conclusion to their relationship? But I said none of that, dropping the issue as I snuggled into her warmth and drifted off to sleep.

 

The next day, she attempted to teach me some duel-wielding techniques, so that I would have a diverse repertoire once I left her, but I didn’t pick it up nearly as quickly as archery and two-handed sword play. I tried my best, as I always did, but I had a bit of a time trying to keep track of what I was doing with two weapons. After being disarmed yet again, I punched the soft ground in frustration, and Mjoll chuckled at my reaction. She didn’t make me drill anymore with two weapons, and stuck with two-handed swords, archery, and throwing daggers for weapons skills. “You might be able to pick up duel wielding in time, but it would probably take too long, and I want to make sure you hone what skills you have.”

 

For the rest of the day, we practiced my sneaking, which was actually kind of fun because it meant an unofficial game of hide and seek with the guards, with them unaware of what we were doing. Mjoll was obviously quite practiced, sneaking being a key skill as to how she was able to clear bandit camps and ruins by herself. I seemed to pick it up well enough, though. The only person who ever seemed to constantly detect me sneaking around was that Brynjolf character, and I steered pretty clear of him since our last interaction. I wondered briefly what he thought to see me practicing sneaking, but I shrugged it off and came to the conclusion that I didn’t care what he thought. I was learning how to survive on my own, that was all that ultimately mattered.

 

That night, yet again, once our door was closed it was all hushed whispers and silenced moans bitten back as we gave and received in turn. Mjoll had climbed on top of me and let her fingers work their magic as she whispered raunchy thoughts into my ear. A blush flushed my cheeks but I was so overcome with lust and want I couldn’t even find it in me to be consciously ashamed. I hit the peak biting down on her shoulder, my body shuddering with release as her teeth grazed my neck. Mjoll was always a considerate lover, and allowed me time to reorient myself before grinding on my thigh, indicating her own need. She was high strung on a wire when I flipped her over and started devouring her. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her own moans as she tangled her own hand in my hair, pulling ever so slightly, grinding her hips against me until she finally came undone. I pulled her blankets over us as she came down and she wrapped her arms around me, gently kissing my forehead as we settled down to sleep. For just that moment, I wished this would never end.

 

My heart ached dully whenever I thought of leaving Mjoll, even though I knew it would happen sooner or later. This warrior woman was my rock, and though I knew I would have to leave safe habour some day, that didn’t mean I had to like it. If I could have, I would have stayed with Mjoll forever, bought a house with her, married her, spent every day in her presence and every night in her arms. But it was not meant to be. We were but passing ships in the night, meant to cross paths for only a short time before going their own ways. Mjoll had her work here in Riften, dismantling the Thieve’s Guild piece by piece, and I had my own personal quest to find my family and rebuild my life. The two things were, unfortunately, mutually exclusive. For just a moment, though, I wondered if it was worth it to leave. If my family would even still care if I was alive or if they had moved on and was happier now. Would my appearance truly be a joy, or would it cause more pain than my disappearance? I wished I had the resolve to tell myself no, to allow myself to simply stay and enjoy a simple life in Riften. But I knew my wandering heart was cursed to wonder until that wayward itch was scratched. If I were to stay here, the rest of my life would be tainted with the knowledge that I had given up. My determined spirit would not let me stray from my path, no matter how painful the cost.

 

I nuzzled Mjoll’s hair as I pushed away these thoughts. She was already deeply asleep, and I closed my eyes as I attempted to join her, determined to enjoy her warmth and companionship for however long I could have it.

 

The next day, we woke up later than usual. Mjoll had decided to give us some semblance of a break, and she only ran me through a few drills with the bow and the great sword to reassure that I was keeping the skills she was passing on before she declared us done for the day. Well, done with official training that is. She winked at me as pulled me toward the front gate of Riften, our bows in hand, wanting to give me a little real world experience as we went hunting. We didn’t necessarily _need_ food, as whatever Aerin did it brought in more than enough to cover three people, but as Mjoll said, “Stationary targets aren’t the same thing as a live one.” I wasn’t sure if that was the real reason we found ourselves sneaking through the undergrowth, stalking elk, or if she just wanted to spend some alone time with me, away from Aerin, but I concentrated as I followed her, an arrow notched and ready to fly as we decided on a target.

 

We settled on a slight hilltop as a small group of elk grazed in the valley beneath us. We didn’t dare speak and alert them to our presence, and so we communicated with eye and hand movements which one to target. Mjoll pointed out the large male, favouring him over the females and smaller juveniles. We wordlessly confirmed our target and pulled our strings back tight as we acquired a target of our own on him. Our eyes locked for just a split second and we nodded, letting our arrows fly in tandem. Mine hit him in the hindquarters, right in the joint, disabling from from running far, while Mjoll’s hit him in the chest, close to his heart if not right into it.

 

The rest of the herd scattered as the large stag fell, spooked by both his fall and Mjoll’s whoop that she let loose as our arrows had hit. She excitedly ran towards our downed quarry and I smiled to see her so happy and in her element. I followed behind her at a nice stroll, but froze as I heard huffing growl nearby. Mjoll didn’t seem to hear it as she had already pulled out a dagger and was field dressing the elk, but I drew another arrow and started casing the area, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. I only heard some scruffling in the bush before a grizzled bear burst out into the clearing, taking Mjoll by surprise. She dropped her knife and scrambled to pull her bow out as the bear charged her, but I was already pulling an arrow back and letting it fly, the tip burying itself into the bear’s brain via its left eye and dropping it less than ten feet away from Mjoll.

 

She looked back at me, startled at the sudden turn of events before she grinned and burst into laughter. “That’ll teach me to get too excited about a kill,” she remarked as I stepped forward to examine my handiwork. I had to say, I impressed even myself with the accuracy. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Mjoll smiling softly at me. “Even veterans like me can get careless. Let this be a lesson to you _and_ to me.”

 

I grinned back. “You’re the best teacher for a reason, Mjoll. Without your training, I would have never been able to even defend myself, much less anyone else.”

 

If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn I’d seen a slight blush grace the warrior’s cheeks as she looked away. “Just don’t get sloppy like me. Too much city living has softened me more than I care to admit.”

 

We skinned and dressed our kills, wrapping them carefully and storing them in our packs before heading back to the city. We had more than enough for our trouble, and we ended up selling most of what we had. However, Mjoll gave me the skins and sent me to Balimund, who gave me some basic lessons at the forge. He even assisted me in making my very own set of armor, and Mjoll beamed with pride as I spent the afternoon crafting some basic hide boots and bracers to accompany a set of studded armor. It wasn’t extravagant or anything, but it was _mine_. I’d made it with my own hands, molded it to fit my body perfectly. The first time I slipped it on in the privacy of our room, it fit like a glove. Mjoll smiled with a roguish grin as I admired my work, proud of me and my accomplishments. I had come far in the time I had spent with her, that could not be denied. While the thought of setting off on my own still sent a thrill of anxiety through me, it no longer caused me the fear that I’d felt before. I knew now that I could take care of myself. I felt _capable_ now. Almost ready to fly the coop. Almost.

 

Mjoll and I had kept aside a little of the meat from our hunt and with it we made a nice stew for dinner that night. It was actually a nice, quiet night, as Aerin was out conducting some business, so it was just us. We talked and laughed as we built up our stew and kneaded out bread to accompany it, reveling in the openness we could have when alone. Without knowing it, she tugged at my heartstrings, subconsciously willing me to stay with her, though we both knew I couldn’t. But with each smile and errant caress, she expressed her love and her reluctance for me to leave. She would miss me just as much as I would miss her, and I wasn’t sure who would be worse off for it.

 

Aerin was back in time to eat, and so we toned down our affection to shared glances and nudges felt under the table. He remained blissfully unaware of our affair as he still made subtle advances toward Mjoll, advances she either brushed aside or ignored completely as always. I had to wonder how long she could keep up this guise, even after I left, as I got the feeling that Aerin wouldn’t wait forever in the shadows of subtly. But, who knew, maybe he would. In a way I almost felt sorry for him, obviously pining for someone who just didn’t return his affections. Of course, if he could just pluck up the courage and talk directly to Mjoll about it, perhaps he could have been let down long ago. She had been living with him for at least several years now, I honestly thought that if he hadn’t been able to at least try to be direct in all that time, it was his loss by this point.

 

Later that evening, after I closed the door to our room, Mjoll encircled me with her arms and pulled me into a long, sensual kiss. Her fingers threaded through my hair as she held me close and I closed my eyes as I leaned into her, letting her kiss and caress and feel as she pleased. She was just slipping my shirt over my shoulder while her tongue explored my mouth when I heard the door suddenly creak open behind us. We both startled to see Aerin standing there, slack-jawed at the scene in front of him. I could see a whole range of emotions cross his face before it finally screwed into one of anger as he glared daggers at both of us, slamming the door behind him as he left. “Aerin!” Mjoll called out as she chased after him, wanting to explain, to apologize, to do _something_. She may not have loved him the same way she did me, but she still loved him as a friend and I knew she felt responsible for this.

 

I sat on her bed for what seemed like the longest time, twisting my fingers as I heard them argue. It was the first time I’d heard either of them raise their voice, much less at each other, but they fought like pit wolves and for a time I was afraid that the guards would be called because of the row. Tears edged out of my eyes as I suddenly stood, knowing what I needed to do. I hadn’t wanted to do it this way, but at this point I didn’t know how I wanted to leave anyway. Might as well do it now. I grabbed the few books that I had yet to read, stashing them in my pack along with a set of clothes and my new armor, intent on returning the books via courier when I was done reading them. I slowly crept into the kitchen, avoiding the raised voices in Aerin’s room as I packed some essentials, careful not to take too much, both for the weight and because I didn’t want to anger Aerin any more than I already had. After I had finished, I shouldered my pack and quietly slipped out the door, tears still stinging my eyes as I tried my best to breathe slowly and evenly and suppress what I was feeling as I traversed the wooden pathway that led to The Bee and Barb. I had more than enough gold to rent a room for the night. In the morning, I would leave Riften behind me, unsure if I would ever return or not.

 

Keerava may seem brusque to some, but she was never anything but polite to me. She did seem a bit surprised to see me turn up in the tavern at this hour, especially sans Mjoll. Somehow, the older Argonian knew, and she didn’t ask me any questions as she took my coin for a room and handed me a bottle of Nord Mead. I tried to fish out a few more coins for the bottle, but she refused, saying, “No, it’s on the house. You look like you need it more than I need the few septims.”

 

I tried my best to crack a smile as I said, “Thank you, Keerava.” I’m not sure if I was successful, but she bowed her head anyway in acknowledgement as I took the bottle and the key to my room and scuttled upstairs, eager to get away from the drunk patrons. I saw Brynjolf and his associate, Sapphire, standing against the wall near the stairs, but I did my best to ignore them as I swept past, the room upstairs my only goal as I ascended the stairs two at a time, almost running as I was eager for a safe haven.

 

I ended up almost running right into Talen-Jei as he was attending to a couple of the upstairs rooms. He seemed to understand I was not in a good mood, and offered one of his special beverages he mixed. I shook my head, but did request a few more bottles of Nord Mead brought to my room. He nodded and took my septims, disappearing down the stairs as I unlocked my new room and stepped inside. I left the door just slightly ajar for Talen-Jei as I dropped my pack on the floor and opened the bottle I already had, taking a long sip as I sat in a chair by the bed. He was back in no time, dropping off the bottles I’d requested before absconding back downstairs, leaving my door closed for me as he left. I was forever grateful for Keerava and Talen-Jei’s hospitality and gentle treatment of me when I was obviously in quite a state. There wasn’t a lot of kindness to be found in this rough southern city of Skyrim, but I was glad to have found the little that I had, which allowed me the space to fall apart as much as I needed to.

 

I wondered if Aerin and Mjoll had stopped fighting by now, or if they would continue through the night. I wondered if Aerin would even allow Mjoll to continue to stay with him or if he would kick her out. I wondered a great many things as I sat there, downing my bottles of mead, chasing sadness and sorrow with sweet drink until a comfortable buzz hummed through my head. I simply sat in the chair by the bed, limp, exhausted from the gamut of emotions that had been churning inside me, now unable to feel much more than numb, which was about all I could handle.

 

The patrons downstairs had gotten quieter as the night wore on, to the point where I could have actually gone to sleep without being woken every so often by raucous laughter and conversation. Everyone else, it seemed, had either gone home or were so deep in their cups as to actually quiet down. It came as a surprise, then, when a sharp rapping sounded against my door, making me almost jump out of my skin. I blinked several times, eyeing the door, wondering if I really wanted to answer it before I finally dragged myself out of the chair and slowly opened it.

 

Mjoll stood here, her hair tousled and face red, fresh tear tracks staining her cheeks. I could see relief wash over her as I opened the door and she immediately embraced me, holding me tight as she confided, “Thank the divines, I was afraid you had left for the wilds.”

 

I wordlessly returned her embrace as I pulled her into the room, closing the door behind us. I heard her choke back a sob as she asked, “Were you really going to leave like that, without even a goodbye?”

 

It broke me, and the tears that I’d thought were long gone fell afresh as I mumbled, “I just didn’t want to cause any more trouble than I already had.” I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eye as I focused on the floor, as blurry as it was from tears.

 

“Oh, Joanna,” she said as she raised my chin. “It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. You were right, I should have told Aerin a long time ago. But what’s done is done. He isn’t happy with me, but he still wants to stay friends. He said if you want to come back and stay with me, you can.”

 

I nodded, but I knew now what I needed to do, and this had simply given me the push to pursue it. Waiting longer wouldn’t make it any easier. “Thank you, but I think this just means it’s time for me to leave.” I blinked away the tears so I could see her face clearly, and almost regretted my decision as I saw the pain strain at her pretty face. “I’m sorry, but if I don’t leave now, I may never leave.”

 

She nodded, understanding as always. As much as she didn’t want me to go, she knew this was what I needed to do. “Do you want me to come with you?” she asked. “I could accompany you. I’ve had my fair share of adventures, after all.”

 

I smiled, but shook my head. “No, you’re needed here in Riften. Don’t abandon your mission for me.”

 

Our foreheads met as silent tears streaked both of our cheeks. I couldn’t tear her away from Riften and her mission of ridding the corrupt city of the Thieve’s Guild, just like she wouldn’t dissuade me from my own path of discovery. It was a hard truth, that we were on separate, incompatible trajectories, and we would have to swallow it together. “Give me just one more night with you, then,” she whispered.

 

I nodded. “I’m yours.” With that, our lips connected and she laid me down gingerly on the bed. She was tender and loving, imparting her love and her feelings for me with every kiss and stroke, taking in my moans and our pleasure, tucking them away in her memory of our last time together, just as I was doing. Even though it was unspoken, we knew this was our last time, and we made our passion count, not stopping until the wee hours of the morning, when we were both spent, using the last of our energy to curl up in each others arms before we drifted off together. I relished the feel of her warm, firm body, ignoring the hole in my heart that was already forming as I rested my head on her shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates, I got caught up in a few one-shots, and in between that I managed to finish my Captain America fic! If you like slow-burn romances with Cap, be sure to check it out. Anyway, hope you enjoy the little update here. :)

The next morning, our goodbyes were long and tearful. Though we both knew this would happen, it did not mean that we were happy that it had come to pass. Mjoll made one last plea for me to stay, and when she realized that I was set on my course, she said no more. As a parting gift, she offered me a steel greatsword along with a moderate stash of steel arrows, to help me in my adventures in the wild. “You have more use for these than I do right now,” she told me.

 

Because of our extended farewell, it wasn’t until mid-morning that I finally pulled on my studded armor, still fresh from the forge, and as a final gesture of support, Mjoll helped me with the final adjustments. She looked a bit misty eyed as we stood there in the rented room, myself suited up as if I was going to war. I might have been, as far as she knew, since we didn’t know if we would ever cross paths again. I hoped that we would, but with the path ahead of me, I knew better than to offer promises I couldn’t guarantee that I could keep.

 

Mjoll saw me out of Riften, walking close behind me as we crossed the wooden boardwalk and toward the large gate in the wall that led to the stables. I had contemplated buying a horse, but after looking into it found it was far too expensive for me right now, and besides that with all the upkeep associated with one, I figured I could walk just as well. Maybe in the future I would get an animal companion, but it wasn’t today.

 

As we passed through the front gate, she walked with me just past the stables, then turned and pulled me into an embrace. “Take care of yourself out there, eh?”

 

I smiled so I wouldn’t cry as I replied, “Thanks to you, I will.”

 

The warrior woman blinked back her own tears as she reached up to caress my cheek before turning and walking back through the front gates of Riften. She had been an adventurer once, but her place was now in the city, looking to rid it of the corruption and filth that had permeated it. To some it may seem like a cop out, like she was giving up a truly exciting life for the mundane, but I knew better. I knew her path was just, it was important, and I knew that if there was anyone who could accomplish that, it was Mjoll.

 

Because of the late start I’d gotten that day, it was already noon by the time I made it to Shor’s Stone. I wondered briefly if I would see Sylgja again, but immediately dismissed the thought as I figured she would still be working in the mine at this time. _Pity_ , I’d thought, as I’d missed the kind woman and would have liked to see her again, but as I approached the mining settlement I saw her sitting outside, near a campfire. I wondered if she would even recognize me, as I looked far different than I had when I’d first escaped the dark warlock. Instead of cowering in hooded brown robes, I stood tall in studded armor, my long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. The training that Mjoll had put me through had added some a little bulk to me, and though my pale skin hadn’t picked up any tan, my freckles had become slightly more pronounced because of the time I’d spent outside training. I even _felt_ like a completely different person.

 

Despite those changes, as I converged on the fire, she looked up and smiled, the glint in her eye telling me that she did indeed recognize me. I returned the smile, though I realized that she also looked different. She looked more pale and drawn, and like she had lost some weight, and when she got up from her seat she moved slower than she had when I’d first met her. Regardless, she greeted me with the same graciousness as she had before, teasing me as she said, “Hello, stranger, passing through?”

 

I laughed, “Yes, on my way out of the Rift, this time.”

 

“I was wondering if were still in Riften or not. It’s been some time, hasn’t it?” She pulled me into a friendly embrace, and when she did I could feel that her clothes were definitely more baggy on her than they had been. She pulled back and took a good look at me, as if she was just now noticing the differences in my appearance. “You look so good! Healthy and strong, much better than when I first saw you.”

 

I chuckled. “I had some help getting on my feet. But what about you? You don’t look as well as you did. Have you been ill?”

 

“Ah, I am still recovering. I had an accident in the mine.” My brows furrowed in concern as she explained. “For a while, I wasn’t even sure if I would make it, it was that bad. I might not have, had a priest of Mara not been passing through on his way to Dawnstar. I delayed his travel, but he nursed me back from the brink. I’m not back completely yet, but I’m doing a lot better now.”

 

I felt horrible as she told me. While I had been in Riften, training and otherwise cavorting with Mjoll, my first friend in this world had been suffering. I wished that I had known, that I could have come and helped take care of her. “I’m so sorry, Sylgja, if I had only known I would have come.”

 

She laughed gently. “Why are you sorry? It was an accident, it could have happened to anybody.”

 

“Well you need to take care of yourself in the mine. You won’t get to retire in a city with a pretty woman if you succumb to a mining accident.”

 

“Aye, this accident has set me back. I had been getting close to retiring, but now I’ll have to work some months, maybe years more to replace my income.” She looked a bit crestfallen about having to rebuild what she had been working towards, but she chose to remain optimistic. After all, as she put it, she was still alive. I had to admit, I admired her disposition. Sylgja was a strong woman, no matter what happened to her, she would thrive, of that I was certain.

 

She invited me into her home once again, and considering the hour and the unlikelihood of reaching anywhere by nightfall, I decided to stop in Shor’s Stone for the night. Despite the comfortability afforded to me by Mjoll’s training, I was still a little uneasy about camping out under the stars with no shelter or protection save for a fire. Maybe one day I would be a rough, rugged adventurer who felt at home in the wilds, but not yet. For now I still preferred the comfort of a bed and a warm hearth than the hard earth and a small fire.

 

After dinner, I asked if there was anything I could do for her, to help repay the kindness she had shown me. At first, she refused any kind of payback, but when I pressed her, she did ask me hesitantly, “Well, you wouldn’t happen to be going by Darkwater Crossing in the near future, would you?”

 

“Why, what’s there?”

 

“My parents live there. I usually make the journey to bring them gifts and to just say hello, but since my accident …” she trailed off, not bothering to state the obvious. “I’ve written some letters and placed them in a satchel. Perhaps you wouldn't mind delivering it to them on my behalf, if you’re passing through?”

 

It wasn’t much, but I was eager to repay her in any way that I could. “Of course, Sylgja. Anything I can do for you.”

 

She smiled. “Thank you, I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am. I’ve been waiting what seems like forever to see if a courier will come through here, but it’s been ages! Just give the satchel to my father, Verner, he’ll probably have something for you to bring back. I’ll be more than happy to compensate you.”

 

I couldn’t take anything from Sylgja, but I didn’t argue the point as I agreed, tucking the satchel in my pack. It would deviate me a little from my planned journey, but for her I didn’t mind. If anything, I felt that I owed her for being so kind and helping me when I first escaped from that cave. Even after her accident and the setback it presented her, she still remained upbeat and cheerful. She truly didn’t deserve to have anything like that happen to her. I hoped that she could recover soon and return to working, however I hoped that she wouldn’t have to work for much longer. With all the talk of the war that I’d overheard while in Riften, I hoped that she would be able to leave soon, move somewhere where there was walls and guards to help protect her. She deserved a quiet retirement, and I desperately hoped that she would have a chance to get that. I promised myself then and there that if I could, I would help her achieve that in any way that I could.

 

We settled down to sleep a little early that night. Her injuries she was still recovering from made her tire easily, and I wanted to leave early and get a head start to Darkwater Pass. With any luck, I could return to Shor’s Stone immediately, return to Sylgja and her sweet presence. I watched the fire throw shadows on the roof of her cottage as I settled down into her spare bed for the second time, aware of just how much had changed since the last time I’d been in the same position. Time was perhaps the simplest thing that had passed, and indeed it had been weeks. But the most significant thing that had changed had been with me … because of the rigorous training I’d been put through, I was now strong and capable, and not near as afraid as I’d been when I’d first broken out of that wizard’s spell. With the difference in how I felt, it honestly felt like years since I’d last laid there, listening to the fire crackle and pop and Sylgja’s soft snoring from the other end of the room. I wondered how it would be when I finally met my family, if they would recognize me or if everything I’d been through had changed me so much they wouldn’t know me from a stranger. I sighed as I rolled over, pulling the blanket over my shoulders. No matter the case, I had to know either way, and I knew I wouldn’t rest until I did.

 

The sun hadn’t quite risen yet when I left Sylgja’s, but the sky was lightening up, like the sun was gathering its strength before it finally journeyed over the horizon. It was nice and cool, yet, and I was glad that I was starting to early so I could enjoy the cooler journey before the sun made it uncomfortable. The Rift itself was quite beautiful, resplendent with trees and wildflowers, but I knew the dangers that lurked there. Alongside the elk, foxes, and rabbits that roamed all over skyrim, wolves and bears roamed alongside them, and worse. Frostbite spiders slunk silently around the hills, entrapping unwitting adventurers and bandits alike. And, perhaps more deadly, spriggans. Besides the magic and strength they wielded themselves, they could enchant animals to fight for them, overwhelming even the seasoned explorer. On my journey to Darkwater Pass, I saw a few wolves, but I was able to scare them off by just stamping my feet and yelling at them, startling them before they could form an attack. It was a lucky break, but one that I knew I couldn’t depend on.

 

Unfortunately, the journey took a lot longer than I’d anticipated, and the sky was starting to darken when I finally arrived. I was more than a little disappointed in the time it had taken me. But my journey for the day was complete when I handed over the satchel to Verner, who indeed handed me another satchel to take to Sylgja. I thought it was a bit presumptuous of him to assume that I would immediately go back to Shor’s Stone for him, but I was more than happy to help out Sylgja. I did ask him for a spare sleep roll for the night in exchange for doing this, and his wife happily obliged, even telling me to keep the roll when I was done with it for the night. It seemed the hospitality that Sylgja showed me had been passed down from her parents, as they accepted me around their fire and shared food with me. Annekke, her mother, used to be an adventurer before she settled down with a family, but I could tell she yearned to be out in the wilds again. Her husband kept her grounded, but only just barely. I had a feeling that if he were to pass, she would likely abandon the mine and go off on her own, for better or for worse.

 

I was one of the first ones up the next morning, packing up for my trip back to Shor’s Stone. Annekke made sure I took some food with me, just some bread and salted meat that would keep well, and I thanked her before I set off. The sun didn’t burn as hot as it did the previous day, and I wondered if it was a temporary lull or if that meant winter was going to come soon. I hoped the former.

 

Since I knew exactly where I was going this time, it didn’t take quite as long as going to Darkwater Pass the first time. By the time I got back to the mining settlement, the rest of the miners were just getting off work, sitting around the fire and easing their sore muscles with drink. None of them paid me mind as I stepped around them and knocked on Sylgja’s door, seeing that she wasn’t sitting out there with him, figuring she was likely getting some rest.

 

She answered the door looking well-rested, and I took that as a good sign that her recovery was proceeding well. She was excited to see the satchel that I brought her and it gave me a thrill of pleasure knowing that I helped put that smile on her face. She gave me a lovely necklace as payment, but later that night she showed me the truth depth of her appreciation.

 

It started innocent enough, with her cracking open a couple of bottles of Black-Briar mead to share with me. The thick, sweet brew went down smooth and was nice to relax to after two straight days of traveling. Though my training had helped prepare me for it, that didn’t mean that my muscles didn’t tire. A hot bath would have really capped the night, but I wasn’t about to trouble Sylgja for that .A bath would have to wait until I got to an actual city. For now, the mead would do.

 

Sylgja seemed even happier than normal, and I wondered all night what she was so pleased about when suddenly, after finishing another bottle, she leaned forward and kissed me. It was so unexpected, it caught me off guard, and for a moment she pulled back and bit her lip as if she was sorry, that she had pushed a boundary that she shouldn’t have. I assuaged her fears by leaning forward, myself, putting a hand around her neck and pulling her to me, savouring a slow, sensual kiss. When we parted, her eyes had grown dark with desire, filled with a familiar hunger that I felt echo in my soul. She wasn’t Mjoll, the one whom I truly wanted at the moment, but I couldn’t say no to sweet Sylgja, and so I didn’t protest when she led me to her bed.

 

I helped her with the buckles on my armor until I sat there on the edge of her bed, naked and aroused. Sylgja moved to take off her shirt, and I could see scars from her accident, scars that made me wince and gulp, glad to no end that that priest of Mara had been passing through at just the right time. As soon as she’d stripped away the last of her clothes, she embraced me, pulling me down on the bed and straddling me as we kissed. Her hands wandered, feeling and exploring as she ground her hips against me, our wetness mixing. Her slender fingers - too slender, truly, to grip the pickaxe she wielded - found themselves between my legs, stroking and sending me into ecstasy. I struggled to keep up, but my own hand found its target, and she moaned as I slipped a finger inside of her. She repaid the favour, slipped two fingers inside of me and we created a rhythm of our own, grunting and moaning as we ground against each other’s hands, creating the friction we both needed. It had been a while since poor Sylgja had gotten any kind of attention, and she came rather quickly, clenching around my fingers as she shouted with release.

 

She took a few minutes to get her bearings, but when she did, she slipped down my body, kissing as she went until she finally reached my core, immediately diving in. My moaned loudly, my fingers tangling in her short brown hair as she shouldered my legs, opening me up to her ministrations. I felt my forehead grow slick with sweat as she licked and teased, edging me a few times before backing down with a sly grin. It wasn’t until I was thrashing as I pleaded, “Sylgja, please,” before she finally drove me up to the edge and shoved me over, wracking my body with orgasm. It was intense and left me shaking, even a few tears escaping as she crawled back up beside me. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything as she pulled me next to her. No, she wasn’t Mjoll, but she was who I needed at the moment. There wasn’t the same connection as there had been with the warrior woman, but we were the release that we both needed, and that in and of itself was enough to tie us together, at least for the night. I didn’t know if I would ever find myself back in Shor’s Stone again, but I knew that I would always fondly think of Sylgja, of her kindness, and of the night we shared a bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I always get just a little stuck in a story when I'm about to switch gears, but I should be good for a little bit now. Thanks for sticking with me!

The cool morning air was refreshing, I mused, as I finally navigated my way close to Riverwood. I had left Shor’s Stone the morning before, bidding Sylgja goodbye with a kiss while she still laid in her bed. She didn’t cry for me or beg me to stay or even make me promise to come back. We both knew and understood what that night had meant, and we knew that in the grand scheme of things it meant little to either of us. There were no misconceptions. That was for the best.

 

I had pushed myself and had actually made it to Whiterun, though it had been in the middle of the night. I had preferred hiking in the night to make it to civilization to bedding down in the wilds. Maybe one day I would take the plunge, but it was not last night. I made it in town just long enough to get a few hours sleep before I set off to Riverwood. I could have dallied longer, but being so close I wanted to go ahead and leave. From what I’d gathered, the mill town was big enough to have its own inn, so I counted on being able to rest once I arrived.

 

Oh how little did I truly know.

 

Once I crossed the bridge and entered the town proper, it was as if my presence had triggered its appearance. Far in the sky, in the distance, I saw clearly a black, winged beast rise and take flight. I stopped in my tracks for a moment, startled at the sight, thinking that surely I hadn’t seen what I thought I saw. I wasn’t the only one to have seen it, however, as the mill mistress and an older woman across the road looked up at the sight. Even the blacksmith stopped his hammer and looked as it flew past, echoes of its roar on the wind.

 

My blood started racing through my veins, already hearing whispers. Some wondered of Helgen, a town where it looked like it was coming from, and without question or even thought my feet started taking me down the road. I had only just made it to my destination but already I was leaving, I took out my bow, gripping it tightly as I made my way down the path, unsure of exactly what I would find, yet drawn into almost certain danger. Everything in me wanted to scream at me to turn around, but something else … called to me.

 

I crept up the road slowly, keeping a watch for anything suspicious, but I didn’t encounter anything. It unnerved me rather than assured me, and I paused by three large stones, asking myself if I really wanted to keep going. I hadn’t seen anything significant, and I didn’t know what I would do if I did. But again, something inside me kept pushing me, wanting to keep going. And so I did, up the path, toward the town of Helgen.

 

As the town became visible in the distance, I could tell something was wrong. I could see the fires from the road and I kept my head on a swivel, suddenly aware of just how vulnerable I was, exposed, nowhere to duck and hide if a dragon or any other enemy did come my way. My hand shook slightly, feeling very much outclassed, wishing like hell I was back in Riften with Mjoll …

 

As I got even closer, I thought I heard somebody shouting. It didn’t sound like fighting, it sounded like … like somebody calling for help. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t coming from Helgen itself, but rather from a cave situated outside of Helgen. I should have hesitated, should have waited to assess the situation, but instead I rushed in, not even thinking of the potential dangers that could await me. Instead, as I ducked into the cave entrance, I called out, “Hello?” I paused for just a moment, heard what sounded like a groan in return, and made my way further into the cave, trying to watch my footing in the inconsistent lighting. The cave was damp and I could smell the mold and water as I attempted to locate whoever was in there. This was likely a pretty good source of mushrooms - perhaps some even good for alchemy - but I didn’t have time to stop and look. If what I was thinking was true, there was someone in here that needed help, and I was the only one around to offer it.

 

I followed the path and found myself in an open cavern, with a small stream of water coursing through it. Ahead I saw the carcass of a bear, but as I didn’t smell any rot, I guessed that its death was recent. Just past the bear, I saw who had been calling out, and I rushed to their side, rolling them over to see if they were even still alive.

 

The blond man coughed and sputtered, looking up at me hazily before he reached up to grip my shoulder. “The dragon … we must warn Riverwood. My sister …”

 

“Hold on,” I replied. “You’re not going anywhere without a health potion.” I reached back to dig in my pack, pulling out a potion. I didn’t have many, but he was clearly in need, and I uncorked it and tipped it back for him, making sure he drank every drop. By the end of the philter, it seemed to be working, and he wiped the blood off of his mouth and sat up.

 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

 

“Joanna.” I hesitated for a second before I returned the question. “What’s yours?”

 

“Ralof. I was in Ulfric’s company when we were captured and taken to Helgen. We were about to be executed when the dragon attacked.”

 

“Executed? For what?” I asked, suddenly realizing that perhaps I’d rushed in too quickly.

 

He chuckled. “Well, last I checked, as Stormcloaks we’re trying to oust the Empire from Skyrim, which they don’t take too kindly to.”

 

Oh, the civil war. Right. I’d heard bits and pieces about it in The Bee and Barb, but I’d never paid much attention to it. I was usually either too sore or too absorbed in Mjoll. I honestly didn’t know much about it, who was on what side, and what each side was even for or against. I suppose that I should attempt to get caught up on the politics of the land, but another time. For now, I offered Ralof my hand to help him stand up, making sure he was steady enough to go on his own. “Are you okay now?”

 

He nodded. “Aye, that potion fixed me right up. Damn bear, I was trying to get away and wasn’t paying attention, almost ran smack into it.” He checked himself over quickly and, finding everything in place, stated, “We have to make sure Riverwood is safe. My sister, Gerdur, lives there. I need to check on her.”

 

“I was just walking into Riverwood when I saw the dragon overhead. I don’t know why I came to check it out, but I suppose it’s good for you that I did. I need to go back there, myself.”

 

“You have business in Riverwood?” he asked as we made our way out of the cave.

 

“Kind of …” I replied, taking a deep breath before I launched into an explanation of what had happened to me and what I was doing. It was simply chance that Riverwood was next on my list to visit after I’d determined that Riften held no significance to me, though it was a lucky chance for him. He seemed intrigued by my tale and listened intently.

 

As we neared Riverwood, he said, “Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I’ve lived in Riverwood my whole life, and I don’t remember there ever being a Joanna.”

 

My heart sank, but I supposed it made checking the town off my list that much easier.

 

I reunited Ralof and Gerdur, and in return Gerdur offered to let us rest in her house. I shrugged, figuring that I might as well save my gold that I would have spent at the inn, and followed Ralof into the cottage. It was bigger than Sylgja’s, meant more for a family, and Gerdur pulled out some meat and stuck it on the fire before she pulled out two bottles of Nord Mead for each of us. It was thick and almost sickly sweet, but it was good going down and I enjoyed it regardless. In the back of my mind, I still preferred ale, but this wasn’t bad.

 

Gerdur yanked the meat off the fire as soon as it was done and served it up to us along with some fresh bread that had been baked earlier that day. Ralof devoured his share like a starving man, and I figured if it had been a while since he’d been captured, it could very well have been a day or two since he’d eaten. As he ate, he regaled Gerdur with the story of his capture and near brush with death before escaping during a dragon attack. She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe that it was true, but I knew that she’d seen it; she was the mill mistress that had looked to the sky as the creature passed overhead. “If this is true, Riverwood is defenseless.” She looked to me. “We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun, ask him for more guards. Please … would you mind?”

 

Well, since I now knew that Riverwood was a bust, I really had no reason to continue to stay. I agreed, shouldering my pack as I stood up. Before I could make it out the door, however, she gave me another health potion to make up for the one that I’d given Ralof, along with some food and a couple of bottles of ale. I thanked her profusely before I set off back to Whiterun. It wasn’t a far walk, though the sun was high in the sky, making it much hotter than it truly needed to be. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, sweaty and sticky from the heat. I was definitely going to have to get a bath from somewhere once I got to Whiterun.

 

As I approached the gates to the city that I had just left that morning, the guards attempted to stop me, telling me, “Sorry, gate’s closed with the dragons about.”

 

So it seemed that someone had already reported something to the Jarl, though I couldn’t be sure if they had requested extra guards to be dispatched to Riverwood. Considering I hadn’t met any on the way, it was likely that no one had considered the little mill town just yet. My promise to Gerdur still ringing in my ear, I said, “Gerdur from Riverwood sent me, I need to speak to the Jarl. It’s _about_ the dragons.”

 

“Well …” the guard hemmed and hawed. “I suppose I could let you in, then, if Riverwood is in danger, too.” I was a little surprised that it hadn’t taken much to convince this guard, but I supposed I should count my blessings as he went to open it just a crack, just enough for me to slip through before he shut the gates again.

 

Whiterun looked pretty much the same as when I left it. The wider dirt path that ran it’s way through the town laid ahead of me, and if taken would swing me through the market district before turning and leading me up to the Gildergreen and the statue of Talos, the last stop before the steps to Dragonsreach. However, in order to not get waylaid on my mission, I went to the left, taking the steps up to the residential district that sat next to the square that the tree and the statue were in. Less distractions. Before I knew it, I was climbing the flights of stairs that lead to Dragonsreach, the famed longhouse that Olaf One-Eye was said to have used to capture the dragon, Numinex. I remembered reading something about it a few weeks prior and being in awe of the whole idea of a dragon even existing, let alone being captured. Now, after what I’d seen, it seemed probable that this place may once again have to live up to its name.

 

I was able to enter the longhouse easily enough, but as I walked up the steps to where the Jarl sat, a Dunmer woman drew her sword and stepped towards me. “What’s the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving any visitors.”

 

“Gerdur sent me,” I replied. “Riverwood is in danger.”

 

She relaxed her stance ever so slightly. “As housecarl, my job is to deal with all dangers presented to the Jarl and his people. So, you have my attention. Now, explain yourself.”

 

I didn’t really know how else to say it, except, “A dragon has destroyed Helgen.”

 

She looked surprised. “You know about Helgen? The Jarl will want to speak with you personally, then. You may approach.”

 

I gulped a little bit as I stood at the base of the steps leading up to the Jarl’s throne. The Jarl was an older man, but solid, like he had been a soldier at some point and his body hadn’t forgotten. His defined arms were propped up on his chair, his sinewy hands stroking his greying beard. “What’s this about Riverwood being in danger?” he asked, his Nord accent thick. He’d likely been born here in Skyrim, probably in one of the rooms in this very longhouse. Skyrim ran through his veins plainly, and I hoped he would listen to me.

 

I nodded as I said, “A dragon destroyed Helgen, and Gerdur is afraid Riverwood is next.”

 

“Gerdur? Owns the lumber mill, if I’m not mistaken … pillar of the community, not prone to flights of fancy …” He looked troubled by this news as he tugged slightly on his beard. “By Ysmir, Irileth was right.” He looked over at the Imperial man who stood on his right. “What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?”

 

The Jarl’s housecarl, the Dunmer woman, spoke up, “My Lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It’s in the most immediate danger. If that dragon is lurking in the mountains …”

 

“But the Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!” Proventus exclaimed. “He’ll assume we’re preparing to join Ulfric’s side and attack him! We should not …”

 

“Enough!” Balgruuf thundered, silencing everyone in the immediate area. Even I jumped and I wasn’t even talking. After a brief pause, he said, “I’ll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people. Irileth,” he turned then to the Dunmer housecarl, “send a detachment to Riverwood at once.”

 

“Yes, my Jarl,” she replied with a slight bow, immediately making for the door of Dragonsreach.

 

Proventus looked ever so slightly miffed, but instead of arguing further he simply said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my duties.”

 

“That would be best,” Balgruuf said before the Imperial man ducked away to the staircase, making for another room somewhere else in the longhouse. Now, it was just me and the Jarl … and a few dozen guards, but we might as well have been alone, really. He turned to me and commented, “Well done, you sought me out on your own initiative. You’ve done Whiterun Hold a service, and I won’t forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem,” he said as he rose, motioning to one of the guards who fetched something out of a cupboard in the corner of the room before he trekked back towards me. He stretched out his hand and offered me an Orcish bow, and I stared in awe for a second before I took it. I had seen Orcish weapons before, but I’d not dared to think that I would have one in my hands any time soon. The craftsmanship was beautiful. Some people would saw that Orcish weapons and armor looked as ugly as their creators, but I disagreed. There was a certain beauty in the roughness, in the harsh angles of the metal. Along with the bow, I was also given a bundle of Orcish arrows to go along with it. I bowed slightly as I took them, grateful for the gift.

 

“Thank you, my Lord.”

 

He nodded, taking a step toward me. “There is … another thing you could do for me … suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Come, let’s go find Farengar, my court wizard. He’s been looking into a matter related to these dragons, and rumors of dragons.”

 

I walked with him to an office area off to the side of the main hall, where a Nord stood in mage robes, reading something at his desk. Most Nords didn’t have much propensity for magic, but it seemed Farengar was one of the exceptions. His shelves were piled with books and scrolls, which were probably rich in lore and history and theoretical things that my mind would never be able to comprehend. I sighed internally; at least I knew my limits.

 

Farengar looked up as we walked in, the expression on his face a bit puzzled. He had likely been so deep in his reading that he hadn’t heard the exchange going on just outside his little room. Balgruuf took it upon himself to introduce me. “Farengar, I think I’ve found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill her in with all the details,” he said, patting my back before leaving the room. Well then.

 

“So, the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? I have no need for another researcher, but I could use someone to fetch something for me … well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there …”

 

My brows furrowed. A dragon had destroyed Helgen and flown off like it was no big deal, lurking who knows where and presenting a danger to all of Skyrim, and this mage wanted a possibly real, possibly fake stone tablet from a ruin? “What does this have to do with dragons?”

 

He smiled. “Ah, no mere brute mercenary, but a thinker! Perhaps even a scholar?” His face brightened considerably as he launched into an explanation. “You see, when stories of dragons began to circulate about a week ago, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors, impossibilities. But one sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls outside of his experience as being impossible. I began t search for information about dragons … like, where have they gone since long ago? And where are they coming from now?”

 

This still didn’t explain much of anything. “So what do you need me to do?”

 

“I, ah, _learned_ of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow: a Dragonstone, said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. I need you to go to the barrow, find this tablet - likely interred in the main chamber - and bring it to me. Simplicity itself.”

 

That name sounded a bit familiar, like I had heard it recently. “What can you tell me about Bleak Falls Barrow?”

 

“It’s an old tomb built by the ancient Nords, perhaps dating back to the Dragon War, itself.” He chuckled, “Ah, but perhaps you just want to know how to get there? It’s near Riverwood, a little village a few miles south of here. I’m sure some of the locals can point you in the right direction, if you have trouble finding it.”

 

I remembered now where I’d heard of it; Ralof had mentioned it to me as we walked into Riverwood, pointing it out on the mountain adjacent the village. I might have to ask someone about it anyway, but I wasn’t going to do anything about it until tomorrow. After everything that had transpired this day, I needed some rest. And a bath. But mostly some good rest for the night. “Very well, I will leave tomorrow morning.”

 

“Safe travels,” he said in parting, immediately going back to the text he was studying as I walked out of the longhouse. My destination for the night: The Bannered Mare, for some food, a bath, and some good rest before I set off on a potentially dangerous mission the next morning. I hoped that my life wouldn’t become an endless series of errands - especially when I still had one more town to visit to try to find my family - but hopefully this would be quick that I wouldn’t get waylaid for too long.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly getting caught up with my updates! Yay!
> 
> Also, as I noted in my previous update, I have an e-mail address exclusively for AO3, so if you don't have an account and would like to comment (sorry, I don't feel comfortable enabling anonymous reviews on the story), or if you'd just like to chat with me, feel free to shoot me an e-mail at emmadilla.ao3@gmail.com.

The chill of the early morning still hung in the air as I passed the front gates of the city, on my way back to Riverwood. I figured that someone there might be able to point the way to Bleak Falls Barrow, and from there … well, I wasn’t quite sure. I didn’t know what to expect once I got there, but Farengar had stated that the tomb was dangerous. I was more than a little nervous to put the skills Mjoll had drilled into me to the test, but I had to do this sooner or later. Besides, if I did this for the Jarl and his court wizard, perhaps that would put me in his good graces, and who knew when you might need to have the help of a Jarl.

 

It wasn’t but maybe an hour or so later when I made it back to Riverwood, well-versed in the road at this point that I traveled efficiently. There weren’t too many people out and about that weren’t working, so I entered the inn to see if anyone there was available to talk. To my luck, the move paid off, as there were two mercenaries there conversing over mugs of ale. One of them was a Dunmer, the other looked like a Nord, but his accent was so light it was barely noticeable. He must have been well traveled to have lost it to that degree. At first I was afraid they would ignore me or shoo me away, irritated at my interruption, but they looked like they would know far better than an inn-keeper, so I got up the courage and cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me …” They both turned to look at me and I swallowed hard before I asked, “Would either of you happen to know the way to Bleak Falls Barrow?”

 

The Nord beamed at me, “Surely! But I must know … what do you expect to find there? It’s just an old tomb.”

 

I sighed. “Well, the court wizard of the Jarl of Whiterun wants me to retrieve some ancient tablet that may or may not be there. I don’t know. It’s supposed to be linked to the dragons coming back.”

 

The Nord shot a look at the Dunmer before he asked, “And you propose to go skulking about an ancient Nord tomb with naught but a steel greatsword and an Orcish bow?” I didn’t really have a response to him - what did you say to an experienced mercenary with expensive gear? - and so I remained silent. The man downed the rest of his mug and set it back on the table. “Well, that settles it. Cal, looks like we officially have a job!”

 

“I-I can’t pay you,” I protested, not wanting there to be any misconceptions about this whole thing.

 

The man shook his head. “We have plenty of gold right now, what we lack is adventure, and you have so graciously provided us with some.”

 

He flashed me a smile that disarmed me; there was no way I could say no to him. “Well, I won’t refuse help …”

 

“That you won’t,” he said as he stood, the dark elf draining the rest of his ale and standing as well. “This here is my friend and associate, Caladh. And I’m Sirius. And, you are … ?”

 

“Joanna.”

 

“Joanna,” he repeated with a smile. “Well, if you have no other business in Riverwood, Joanna, we can leave for Bleak Falls Barrow immediately.”

 

I nodded. “Suits me just fine. Lead the way, then.”

 

“With pleasure,” he grinned as he stepped past me, holding the door open for me and his associate - my associate now, too.

 

Caladh and I followed Sirius back down the road, both of us drawing our bows just in case we needed them. Sirius left his wicked-looking greatsword sheathed the whole time as we walked back through Riverwood and over the bridge, only pulling it off when he veered off the path. Normally, one would follow the road to the right, which would take them to Whiterun. However, at that point, Sirius led us left, to a seldom-used path which wound up through the hills across from the small mill town. While I was still unsure what to expect - as the mercenaries had not actually divulged what might lie ahead - I did feel better to have a couple of companions with me. Despite Mjoll’s need to stay in Riften, I had been dreading adventuring on my own. I didn’t know how long these two would stay with me, but I would take them for as long as I could and learn from them anything they would teach me.

 

About halfway up the path, Sirius all of a sudden crouched to a halt, staying still for a moment before he whispered, “Up ahead, there are some bandits posted at that watchtower.”

 

It was a good thing he had been paying attention, because I hadn’t. If I had been going it alone, the bandits would have gotten the drop on me. A cold chill worked its way up my spine at what could have been. In that moment I thanked all nine divines that the pair had been posted up at the Sleeping Giant Inn this morning to save me from a potentially deadly fate.

 

In response to the bandit threat, Caladh raised his bow, and I did likewise as I crouched by his side. He whispered to me, “Pick your target and follow it.” After a pause, “Do you have it?” I nodded and he whispered, “Alright, steady aim, breathe in … breathe out … and fire.”

 

We loosed our arrows in unison, picking off two of the bandits who stood outside near the tower. At seeing his companions fall, the third drew his weapons and swirled about, trying to see where the sudden attack was coming from, but Sirius was already on it, charging ahead, brandishing his greatsword. He broke out of stealth mode at the last second to attack, throwing the bandit off his feet. He only parried the initial attack by pure luck. The second strike, he was not so lucky, and his head rolled away into a snowbank. Sirius shot a beaming grin back at us and gave us the all clear, that nobody else was in the area. Caladh and I rushed to join him, picking a few useful things off of them before moving on.

 

We crouched as we approached the outside of the ruin, carefully surveying the area now that we knew there was bandit activity. Sure enough, three more bandits roamed around the outside, keeping watch. At this rate, there was likely more inside, and I was ever increasingly grateful for my companions. The experienced mercenaries seemed to be getting a real kick out of this, and I watched them carefully as they set up for attack. Caladh silently bid me to join him in taking out the archers, which we did in unison just as we had before. Once they were taken out, Sirius charged forward and took out the one with an iron battleaxe who was trying to charge down the steps at us. Sirius had crept up so quickly, the woman almost ran past him, and Sirius used that to his advantage, utilizing her momentum to impale her on his greatsword. I was going to have to ask him about that sword at some point, it was wonderfully wicked looking, with a sharp, black blade and red accents that I swore glowed. Caladh’s bow looked like it was made out of the same material and style, as well, and I promised myself that one day I would make myself something like that, or even better.

 

With the bandits outside taken care of, we crept into the ruined tomb itself, keeping an eye out for any other suspicious characters that we would have to deal with. Sure enough, there were, but only two this time. Caladh and I easily took care of them as we continued onward, winding down steps and twisting hallways. I had been expecting the whole place to reek, but it surprisingly did not. I supposed it had been so long since dead bodies had been taken there that even the most recent deposits had long rotted off their stink. Instead it smelled musty and dirty, a strong earthy moss scent hanging in the air. Because of the careful pace we took, we were able to avoid the arrows that came with the trap that one bandit unwittingly triggered. Getting him out of the way took no effort from us at all, we simply had to stand back and wait until he expired from the poisoned arrows, which wasn’t very long at all. After that, it was just a simple puzzle to solve to open the gate to proceed even further into the tomb.

 

While we wandered the winding halls, I froze for a moment, thinking I heard a voice call out. Caladh and Sirius noticed that I’d stopped and asked why, but I shushed them. “Don’t you hear that?” We all stood still, silent, listening intently. Right when I thought I’d made it up, the voice called out again. My companions heard it that time, their eyes narrowing as they held their weapons close, ready to strike. It was someone calling out for help, so while he may not have wished us harm, something had obviously gotten him in trouble, and so we proceeded carefully. When we finally made it to the room where the voice was coming from, the entrance was covered in a thick spider web. I grimaced as Sirius cut through the web, knowing what had caught him up and not looking forward to encountering it. As soon as he cut through the web, Sirius peeked his head into the room for just a moment before his eyes widened and he yelled out before he rushed in. His actions startled me, but Caladh must have been used to this as he simply ducked through the opening, and I soon followed suite. Sure enough, there was a frostbite spider in there. But not just any frostbite spider … a giant one. My skin crawled as I aimed with my bow and let loose a shot, but I missed as it descended from the ceiling. Sirius was charging at it, but his recklessness cost him as he got sprayed with venom. He sputtered and coughed, swinging wildly and missing his target, causing the spider to strike him. My heart caught in my throat as I aimed yet again, my arrow striking its target along with Caladh’s and taking down the spider. I rushed forward to my companion, who was kneeling on the floor, and fished a health potion out of my sack. I had precious few of these, and who knew what we would be facing, but we needed to face it at full strength, if possible. He thanked me as he quickly downed it, and we waited just a moment for it to take effect.

 

Meanwhile, the source of the voice sounded rather impatient. “If you’re done tending to him, I could really use a hand over here, ya know.”

 

I nodded to Caladh and said, “Make sure he’s okay.” Caladh strode towards Sirius’ side as I approached the man hung in the sticky webbing, drawing my ebony dagger to help cut him down. There was a lot of webbing to cut down, but my dagger was razor sharp and it didn’t take too long.

 

As soon as his feet hit the ground, however, he threw a punch at me, striking me in the middle of my cheek and causing me to stumble backwards as he tried to make a break for it, laughing. He didn’t make it far, however, as Caladh summoned an ice spike and sent it shooting through his skull. He helped Sirius to his feet before he looked over at me. “Are you alright?” he asked.

 

My cheek was throbbing and almost numb in a weird way, but I would be just fine. “Yeah, I’m good,” I replied as I rubbed my cheek, willing the tingling sensation to go away.

 

“Well then, let us continue!” Sirius exclaimed, his excitement not tempered one bit by the recent turn of events.

 

“Wait,” I said before we went any further, pausing to think for a second. “Wasn’t he saying something about a claw?” I looked over at his body and something told me to search him. I obeyed the instinct and was rewarded with a golden claw, engraved with three symbols on the bottom. “Hmm, this is interesting …” I pondered out loud as I also located a journal. “Hey, I found a journal, here, maybe this might tell us what’s ahead?” I quickly opened it and flipped through the pages, reading a few interesting bits of knowledge that I stored away as I rose to my feet, tucking the claw and the journal into my pack.

 

We pressed ever onward, coming into actual catacomb structures, but with it an unknown danger.

 

As we crept down a set of stairs, we all suddenly heard a sharp growl, then the unsheathing of a weapon and footsteps. We all readied our weapons, but we were a bit taken a back when our enemy showed its face. I had no idea what it was, but it looked dry and shriveled and evil. Caladh and Sirius seemed to know what we were facing, however, as Caladh yelled out, “Draugr!” before he let loose an arrow that went right through the chest. He took it down in one hit, however it seemed he was not alone as two more appeared around the corner. I was able to take out the other as Sirius ran the other through with his sword. I sighed as I looked over the already dead bodies. As if there weren’t enough obstacles to this whole mission, now we had undead to contend with. I was really applauding my decision to go to the Sleeping Giant Inn and agree to go with these two. I had no idea what I would have done had I encountered these things alone.

 

We encountered no more bandits from that point, every other enemy we stumbled upon were draugr. I was starting to run a little low on arrows, so I pulled out my greatsword and started flanking Sirius while Caladh continued to pick them off from behind. Both Sirius and I had to trust Caladh to not hit us while we were fighting, but he was clearly very skilled. I had initially been intimidated to fight these things up close, but I found they were much slower and far less capable, and I cut them down with ease. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so bad off had I not had the mercenaries with me, but they certainly did provide a confidence boost.

 

After fighting our way through several different chambers, we finally came to a long, wide hallway, at the end of which was a sealed door with a strange looking recess for an oddly shaped key. I remembered reading something about this in the bandit’s journal, and so I pulled out the golden claw. On the foot of the claw, like I had seen before, were carved figures, and I saw now that they corresponded to carved figures in the door … however, the order in the door did not correspond to the order on the claw, so I moved them until they did and then pressed the claw into the door, giving it a twist. There was the sound of something moving in the door before it slid open to allow us to pass, and I tucked the claw back in my pack before we continued into the main chamber.

 

We had only taken a few steps when I thought I heard something. I paused for a moment, tilting my head. It sounded like … chanting, for lack of a better word. “Do you hear that?” I found myself asking for the second time.

 

Like the first time I’d asked that question, they both paused, silent, listening for it until Caladh said, “I hear nothing.”

 

“Really? You don’t hear that … chanting?”

 

They both paused for a moment more before Caladh shook his head and Sirius replied, “I don’t hear any chanting, Joanna.”

 

I shrugged, thinking, _Perhaps I’m just going mad, then._ I would be lying if I said it seemed out of the realm of possibility.

 

We approached the center of the room, where there was a stone coffin situated across from a large wall. What I was looking for, the Dragonstone, was likely in the coffin, but there was something about the wall that drew me to it. There was scratching in the wall, some indecipherable language whose origins I didn’t know, but there was something that drew me to it. The closer I got to the wall, the louder the chanting became, until I reached out and touched the wall and the chanting rose to a crescendo as I felt a sudden understanding overcome me, an understanding that I wasn’t sure what to make of: FORCE. I didn’t know why or how I knew this, but I knew that a particular section of the wall, a section that held the word FUS, meant FORCE. How or why this was useful to me, or even how I just _knew_ it, I didn’t know. And I didn’t get much of a chance to dwell on it, as all of a sudden the stone coffin behind me burst open, unleashing a draugr lord.

 

Caladh let loose a few fireballs at it to weaken it as Sirius and I fought him. He would have been extremely tough had I been alone, but with my companions with me, we made short work of him. Once he was defeated, I took a peek inside his coffin and sure enough, there was the Dragonstone, just like Farengar said it might be. _Well, at least this isn’t a bust, then_ , I thought as I held it up. “Got it!”

 

“Ah, then this is not all for naught!” Sirius exclaimed, grinning. “Excellent! We shall be accompanying you to Whiterun, then?”

 

I was surprised at the offer; I thought they would only want to come with me to Bleak Falls Barrow, I didn’t think they’d be interested in following me any further than that. “Um, I guess. I mean, if you want. You don’t have to …”

 

Sirius shrugged. “You could see how much _fun_ we were having in that inn. We need a little more adventure in ours lives, and it seems you are fit to provide it. So, we will follow you, as long as you wish us to.”

 

This was certainly unexpected, but I figured why not. I would have not one but two companions to help watch my back, and there was obviously skills they could teach me as well. Mjoll had taught me well, I would never say that she hadn’t, but there was some things in the moment that couldn’t really be taught any other way. If I was going to survive long in this world, I needed these real world skills, and they seemed friendly enough to offer help. And I was never one to refuse help when it was so willingly offered. I smiled as I replied, “I think I would like that.”

 

Sirius broke into a wide grin that was as different as Caladh’s soft, reserved smile. It communicated the same thing, though: satisfaction.

 

Behind the main chamber, we actually found a tunnel that took us out of Bleak Falls Barrow, depositing us high up on the hills outside of Riverwood. It was a little bit of work climbing down the rocks, but it was still a lot easier than going all the way back through the whole ruin. It was late afternoon by the time we finally hit terra firma, which put us back in Whiterun by dusk. Since I wasn’t sure if the court wizard would still be receiving anyone at that hour, we decided to spend the night in the inn, eating a hearty meal and drinking more than a few bottles of mead before we rented some beds and fell into them. Farengar could wait until the next day, we all needed some rest.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated this before now, I've just had a lot going on and it got away from me. In return, this chapter is a little longer, and we start to get into some real story meat, so I hope y'all enjoy. :)
> 
> Oh, and I just wanted to remind y'all that I have an e-mail set up just for ao3, so if you don't have an ao3 account and would like to tell me something about my story, or if you'd like to contact me without using the comment section, feel free to shoot an e-mail at emmadilla.ao3@gmail.com.

The next morning, we were loose and limber with adequate food and rest, and we ate a lazy breakfast of porridge before we made our way up to Dragonsreach. The shouting voice of the Talos priest parked at the base of the steps wound its way through the marketplace, and I think all three of us rolled our eyes, even though Sirius and I were Nords ourselves. Religion was fine, as far as I was concerned, and I even felt a certain pull towards Talos. But there was a line to cross where it was taken too far, and this fellow had crossed it long ago. I swore he should have gone hoarse, as the last time I had been in Whiterun he’d been preaching at the same level. But no, he was still there, as loud and obnoxious as ever, and we ignored him as we ascended the steps.

 

The Dragonstone weighed heavily in my pack, and I was eager to unload it. It seemed small enough but it must have been very dense. I absently wondered what stone the dark grey tablet was, but I was unlikely to get any answers. At any rate, when we entered the longhouse and started to approach Farengar’s room, I overheard him talking with someone.

 

“You see? The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I’m convinced this is a copy of a much older text, perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with the other, later texts.”

 

The person whom he was conversing with, a hooded woman, replied, “Good, I’m glad you’re making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers.”

 

“Oh have no fear, the Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I’m now able to devote most of my time to this research.”

 

“Time _is_ running, Farengar, don’t forget. This isn’t some theoretical question. Dragons have come back.

 

“Yes, yes, don’t worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable …” At that time, he looked up to see me enter, along with my two companions, and greeted me. “Ah, yes, the Jarl’s protege! Joanna, is it? Coming back from Bleak Falls Barrow so soon?”

 

I smiled as I set my pack down on his desk. “Oh yes, and I have the Dragonstone for you,” I replied as I fished the tablet out of my pack and set it in front of him.

 

His eyes grew wide as he ran his fingertips over the surface of the etched stone, marveling at the sight of a rumor presented in front of him. He breathed out, “The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow …” He admired it for a few minutes more before he straightened up and commented, “It seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way.”

 

“What’s next, then?”

 

“Well, this is where your job ends and mine begins, the work of the mind. Which, is sadly undervalued in Skyrim. My … associate, here, will be pleased to see your handiwork. She discovered its location, by means she has so far declined to share with me.” He turned back to the hooded woman and said, “So, your information was correct after all. And we have our friend to thank for recovering it for us.”

 

The woman’s sharp, piercing eyes flicked to me under her hood. “You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work,” she complemented, turning back to Farengar. “Just send me a copy when you’ve deciphered it.”

 

“Of course, of course.”

 

I was about to inquire about any reward associated with this work - as I had been told there would be _something_ provided for risking life and limb to retrieve this damn brick, but I didn’t have a chance as Balgruuf’s housecarl rushed into the Wizard’s quarters.

 

“Farengar, Farengar! You need to come at once. A dragon’s been sighted nearby.” Irileth’s gaze settled on me and my companions as she said, “And you, you should come, too.”

 

Me? Why? Because I had fulfilled _one job_ for the Jarl? Sirius and Caladh I could understand, since they were seasoned mercenaries, but I was nothing more than a spring chicken compared to them. There didn’t seem to be any room for argument, however, as Irileth grabbed me by my shoulder and pulled me along with her, Farengar and my own companions following behind us.

 

Farengar seemed downright giddy as he carried on, “A dragon, how exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?”

 

Irileth grunted at him as she pulled me up the stairs. “I’d take this a bit more seriously if I were you. If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun, I don’t know if we can stop it. Let’s go.”

 

My heart pounded in my chest at the thought. I had seen one dragon - precisely one - fly away from Helgen. It was nice and far away, which was exactly where I wanted them to stay. The thought of a dragon being so close to where I was made me want to run to the hills, far away from the danger. My palms started to feel sweaty as we ascended the stairs to find the Jarl and a Whiterun guard waiting at the top. The guard had taken his helmet off and was sitting down, breathing heavily as he wiped sweat from his face. A servant handed him a cup and he downed the contents.

 

The Jarl waited patiently for him to finish and catch his breath before he addressed him, “So, Irileth tells me you came from the western watchtower, is that correct?”

 

The young man nodded, his blond hair slightly slick with sweat as it brushed against his collar. “Yes, my lord.”

 

Irileth butted in at that point. “Tell him what you told me, about the dragon.”

 

He gulped as he said, “We saw it coming from the south. It was fast, faster than anything I’ve ever seen.”

 

“What did it do?” Balgruuf asked. “Is it attacking the watchtower?”

 

“No, not when they sent me here. It was just circling overheard and they were afraid it would, so they sent me here to get some reinforcements. I never ran so fast in my life … I thought it would come after me for sure.”

 

Balgruuf leaned forward and gripped the poor guard’s arm reassuringly. I can’t say I would have been faring better had I been in his boots, and I think the Jarl felt the same way. “Good work, son, we’ll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You’ve earned it.” The guard nodded and thanked him before he stood and made his way back down the stairs. Balgruuf then turned toward his housecarl and said, “Irileth, you heard the man. Better gather some guardsmen and get down there.

 

The Dunmer woman nodded. “Yes, sir, I’ve already ordered my men to muster near the main gate.”

 

“Good, don’t fail me.” Balgruuf then turned towards me, and I felt awfully small in comparison to him and his housecarl and even the guards standing around as he said, “There’s no time to stand on ceremony, my friend, I need your help once again. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here. But, I haven’t forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Avenicci that you are now permitted to purchase property in the city. And please, accept this gift from my personal armory.” He waved one of his guards over who presented me with an Orcish greatsword, to replace my steel one.

 

I tried to protest, tried to tell him I hadn’t fought the dragon or even been up close and personal to the destruction the beast had wrought, but he wasn’t listening as Farengar was begging his attention. “You know, I should go along. I would very much like to see this dragon.”

 

“No, I can’t risk both you and Irileth,” Balgruuf replied firmly, and I could almost hear the eyeroll in his voice as he refused his over-curious wizard.

 

I sighed. I supposed it was for naught. I had to face a dragon now. Of course, I could simply run in the opposite direction once I got out of the city, but in my heart I knew I wouldn’t. As much as I dreaded this encounter, as much as I wanted to avoid a face-to-face meeting with a dragon, I couldn’t back down. I might very well face my death, but in my bones I knew that I had to do this. I turned back to my companions and said, “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

 

Sirius grinned. “Are you kidding me? A dragon? You couldn’t convince us to stay behind if you paid us!”

 

I did feel a little better as we walked back to the main gate to meet up with the rest of the guards who were going to come with us. I tried to convince one of the men to take the sword I was given as a reward, but they both refused it, saying I needed it far more than they did, and they were only along for the ride anyway. I shrugged. _Suit yourself_. I was more than happy to strap the new greatsword onto my back as we rounded the corner, the gaggle of guards waiting around for us visible from Belethor’s shop.

 

Irileth was a few steps ahead of us but waited for all three of us to draw abreast of the grouping before she spoke. “Alright, here’s the situation: a dragon is circling the western watchtower.”

 

The guards were surprised, mumbling amongst each other that they were doomed, questioning if it was real, and wondering just what they could do against it.

 

“Yes, you heard right, I said a dragon,” Irileth continued. “I don’t care much where it came from or who sent it, but what I do know is it’s made the mistake of going after Whiterun.”

 

One of the guards spoke up, somewhat timidly as he was speaking against the Jarl’s own housecarl. “But Housecarl … how can we attack a dragon?”

 

The Dunmer woman pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “That’s a fair question. None of us have ever seen a dragon before, or expected to face one in battle. But we are honour-bound to fight it, even if we are doomed to fall. This dragon is threatening our homes, our families … could you call yourselves true Nords if you ran from this monster? Will you make me face this beast alone?”

 

None of the guards seemed like they would back down, but they all had a doom-driven look about them, like they expected to fail. After all, honour was something that ran strong in Nord culture, it was what pressured me to follow Irileth into battle against the beast, this unexplainable passion to stay true to our word and not run away, no matter how tough the going got. But just because Nord blood ran deep in our veins didn’t mean we were never afraid or we dreaded a battle. Quite the opposite, really.

 

Irileth needed to inspire them somehow, and inspire them she did. “But it’s _more_ than simply our honour at stake here. Just think of it: the first dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age … and the glory of killing it is ours, if you’re with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?”

 

The guards were once again excited, and a few held up their weapons as they shouted in agreement. No matter what would happen, we would face this creature, and either we would kill it or we would fall trying. Either way, it was our path now.

 

The Dunmer woman smiled at their response. “Good. Now, let’s move out.”

 

The walk to the western watchtower was unsettling, to say the least. The whole area outside of Whiterun was deathly quiet, as the bird’s ceased their chatter and even the wind itself had died down to little more than a breeze. It was like the situation had become self-aware, that something big was about to happen, and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I gulped and followed Irileth and the guards. I only hoped I wasn’t walking to my doom. I still hadn’t found my family, and I suddenly, desperately wanted to see them one last time, to tell them that I was alive and relatively fine. Instead, I could end up dying without them even knowing that I’d been alive, probably thinking I’d already been dead for years. I hefted my bow in my hand as the uncomfortable thoughts coursed through me, but I let them pass.

 

I had to focus. If I was going to survive this, I had to be sharp and on point. I couldn’t afford any mistakes. I only had to imagine the tongue-thrashing Mjoll would give me if I was easily bested, how she would chew me out if all of her lessons went to waste. My eyes narrowed slightly as I took in the sights before me, noticing that there was a line of black smoke curling upwards from the tower.

 

Well, well. It seemed the dragon had not been content to simply circle the watchtower forever.

 

Irileth crouched in a thicket near the watchtower, where we could clearly see it now sat in ruin. We hadn’t even heard a sound in the city, and that sent a chill up my spine that a dragon could attack so close and nobody would have ever even known if that one guard hadn’t been sent back to Whiterun. The housecarl observed the situation for a moment before she turned to the rest of us. “No signs of a dragon right now, but it sure looks like he’s been here. I know it looks bad, but we’ve got to figure out what happened, _and_ if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors, we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

 

The field was eerily silent as we approached, the only sounds I could hear was the faint crackle of fire that had sprung up among the ruins of the watchtower. The tower itself was mostly intact, save for a couple of spots in the side, but the area around it was laid to waste, stonework and burnt wood scattered here and yon. The rest of the guards spread out in some pre-determined pattern as they scanned the area, but I accompanied Irileth to the tower itself, Caladh and Sirius on my heels. They had their heads on a swivel, looking out for an attack that could come at any moment. My hands trembled slightly as I gripped my bow in my hand, forcing myself to remain as calm and focused as possible. In reality, I wanted to fall apart from the anxiety and the fear that was winding its way through me and gripping me from within, like icy tendrils of frost that laid over fields in the cold mornings. It threatened to envelop my heart with its cold, no matter how much I desperately batted it away so I could focus and do what I needed to do, should the time come.

 

As we walked up what was left of the stone walk way that lead into the tower, a guard came rushing out. “No, get back! It’s still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!”

 

Irileth was instantly on guard, her body going rigid and still as her eyes scanned the area. “Where is it? Quickly, now!”

 

“I don’t know!” the guard replied, then winced, hearing a distant roar. “Oh, Kynareth save us, here he comes again!”

 

Irileth started shouting orders to her men, but I froze for a moment, seeing the dark outline on the horizon, cresting just above the mountain behind us before making a beeline for the tower again. Why was the dragon attacking the same watchtower? Wouldn’t he try to fly off and seek easier prey? Or maybe he thought there was no way a handful of alerted guards could do anything to him. And maybe he was right. Maybe this was where we would fall, making our last stand against this powerful beast.

 

But we wouldn’t go down without a fight. As the dragon approached I snapped out of my haze, rushed into the tower, and bounded up the stairs. It was only a short sprint until I was at the top of the tower, but I was in perfect position to let loose some shots. I drew my bow and aimed carefully, taking into account every factor I could think of and let loose. I didn’t even wait to see if my arrow hit, I was already drawing and aiming another shot. I was able to get off four before the dragon finally made it to the tower and I had to duck and cover as he aimed a stream of fire around the area. As I dove onto the stairs that offered some protection, I almost dove directly into Caladh, who was standing behind me and taking shots of his own. “Where’s Sirius?” I yelled.

 

“Down on the ground, waiting to see if it will land.”

 

My heart clenched for a moment as I hoped he hadn’t been hurt by the dragon’s fire, but I had no time to worry as I popped back up and focused on the circling dragon. I let loose a few more arrows, and they seemed to hit as he got increasingly agitated, raining fire down onto the field and eventually aiming it right at the tower.

 

Caladh and I ducked back inside to escape, waiting for the volley to end when I happened to look out onto the field from the hole in the wall and see Sirius. He was alive! But the way he was moving would suggest he was injured, as he moved slow and didn’t even have his greatsword up. Seeing him crawling like that, attempting to find some sort of cover so he could survive the onslaught, I couldn’t just watch. Just like that, something in me snapped, and before I knew it I was racing back down the stairs and out of the tower, Caladh yelling at me the whole way. I could feel the ghost of his hands as he tried to grab my shoulder but I ducked his grip and burst out the door, jumping out of the tower and running for Sirius. Smoke filled the air and made me cough, its rough tang filling my nostrils and making my eyes burn. As I ran toward my companion, it seemed like time itself slowed down. I could almost feel every blade of grass as my feet hit the ground, almost see every single flower petal that had gone flying in the chaos that had descended on the field. Through the smoke and the haze, I could see Sirius coughing and sputtering, trying to clear his lungs as he swiped at his eyes, and I only hoped that he hadn’t gotten hit in the face. I was getting close now, close enough that he heard me as I called out to him, and he turned to see me charging toward him.

 

Neither of us had the chance to react, however, as the ground trembled and I was almost thrown off my feet for a moment. The dragon had landed on the field near us. My heart felt like it stopped as the dragon glanced my way, but my blood ran cold when he turned toward Sirius and I swear the damn beast smiled to see a helpless victim. I heard myself shouting in protest, but I wasn’t even conscious of my body’s effort. Instead, everything became sharp, in focus, and time seemed like it stopped completely as I suddenly realized the chance I had. If I’d taken time to think about it, it would have been too late, but I was already drawing my greatsword and running across the field, closing the short distance between myself and the dragon. As I neared, the dragon’s head suddenly snapped toward me, but I didn’t even have time to get scared as an unearthly calm filled me. All around me I heard shouting and the cries of battle, but I couldn’t discern even one voice amongst them as I drew close to the beast, who was somehow even bigger than he looked while in the air. I took one step, then another, then jumped with all my might and landed right on its neck, just behind its massive head.

 

I felt the dragon jolt in surprise, twisting his head to try to see where I was and what I was doing. It was too late for him, though, I was in a prime position, and as soon as I was steady enough, I lined up my shot and buried my greatsword in the base of his neck.

 

The resulting roar made the very earth underneath us shudder, and I could have sworn that with it I heard a voice, a deep, throaty tone that cried out, something that sounded like “Dovahkiin, no!” But I couldn’t be sure, as I had to jump off the giant body that was collapsing and going limp underneath me.

 

Caladh had emerged from the tower and was already helping Sirius to his feet, giving him a healing potion as I approached. They both seemed to be in a bit of shock that their novice follower had rushed headlong into direct battle with a _dragon_. Hell, if I was honest, I was, too. I still trembled with adrenaline that was shooting through me, along with a strange tingling sensation that was starting to overcome me. I hoped this wasn’t what passing out was like, but I heard the guards murmur as they gathered around me, wondering what was happening, and as I turned back toward the dragon I saw whirling tendrils of light stretching between myself and the dragon. I would have been scared, had I been able to properly feel anything at the moment, but the only thing I could even feel was … peace. Peace, and … knowledge? Fulfillment? I couldn’t quite pinpoint it but it was the closest I could describe it.

 

Eventually, the light subsided, absorbed into me, and one of the guards said in wonder, “I can’t believe it! You’re … you’re Dragonborn …”

 

“Dragonborn?” I asked as my brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

 

Sirius, who had been leaning against Caladh, pushed himself onto his feet. “In the very oldest tales, back from when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. That’s what just happened, wasn’t it? You absorbed his power … his knowledge.”

 

I opened my mouth initially to protest. After all, who could say what slaying a dragon even looked like if there hadn’t been dragons in literal ages. But what he said stuck with me, and made me pause. “Maybe …”

 

“There’s only one way to find out,” another guard spoke up. “Try to shout. Only the Dragonborn can shout without training.”

 

Shout? And just how was I supposed to shout? There was only one way to do that, or so I thought, but as I wanted to protest yet again, that word from Bleak Falls Barrow came back to me, and I wondered if it was connected somehow. Just thinking about it made me want to try, want to see if this word that I’d discovered in the ancient tomb was what I felt it might be.

 

Well, only one way to find out.

 

I faced away from my companions and the guards, not wanting to unintentionally harm anyone, and figuring I had nothing to lose, I let out the building thunder in my throat. My voice surprised me, coming out in a loud shout as I let loose, “FUS!” Since there was fortunately nobody standing in front of me, there was no one that stood in the way of the shock wave that emanated from me. I was just as shocked as the rest of the were, wondering what this meant now.

 

“That can only mean one thing,” one of the guards said. “You _are_ the Dragonborn.”

 

Another guard spoke up, with a thick accent. “My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn, those born with the Dragon Blood in ‘em. Like old Tiber Septim, himself.” His voice was full of awe, and I felt self-conscious, everyone’s eyes burning into me. I looked down at the greatsword in my hand, its blade touching the ground, still coated in dark blood. The guards continued on, oblivious of my discomfort.

 

“I’ve never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons.”

 

“There weren’t any dragons then, idiot, they’re just coming back now for the first time in … well, forever.”

 

“But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power, and she must be one of them!”

 

“Enough!” Irileth said firmly, shushing the men soundly. “Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don’t know anything about. Here’s a dead dragon, and that’s something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don’t need some mythical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me,” she commented, casting just a hint of a smile my way, a gesture that told me that she wasn’t trying to belittle me, only that results mattered and she was more than pleased with said results.

 

The heavily-accented guard snorted and mumbled, “You wouldn’t understand, Housecarl, you ain’t a Nord.”

 

Irileth shot him a glare. “I’ve been all across Tamriel, and I’ve seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this Dragonborn tale, if not more so. I’d advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword over tales and legends.” She turned back towards me and added, “That was the hairiest fight I’ve ever been in, and I’ve been in more than a few. I don’t know about this Dragonborn business, but I’m sure glad you’re with us. You better get back to Whiterun right away, Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here. I will stay and try to salvage what I can from the tower.”

 

I nodded, too overcome and numb from shock, the adrenaline starting to leave my body. I only hoped I would make it all the way there. Sirius and Caladh were at my side as we trudged back to the city, but everything kept going in and out of focus for me. The road, the grass, even the meadery in distance became nothing but a blur as suddenly the earth came rushing up at me. I vaguely heard Caladh and Sirius as I fell, along with a deep, rumbling shout that trembled through my entire being as I succumbed to the darkness.

 

_Dovahkiin._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the great delay, I got slightly burnt out after reaching 50k in NaNoWriMo, and then I got sick, and then even when I recovered I had a little trouble getting back in the groove (my poor Harry Potter story, it's in even greater need of an update).
> 
> BUT as a treat, I've attached a few pictures you might enjoy. :) Two are shots of Joanna in her new armor, and the other two are of Caladh and Sirius, as I realized since they are modded followers, y'all have no clue what they look like (unless you just so happen to have their mod installed). So, enjoy!

I felt like I was swimming in a sea of smoky grey fog, unable to see or hear or even feel around me. All that seemed to exist was myself and my thoughts, and I felt lost, adrift. There was only me and this strange energy that thrummed through me, that filled my entire body and made my skin tingle, like there was something vibrating just beneath the surface. Suddenly, I heard what sounded like … chanting. Similar to what I’d heard in Bleak Falls Barrow. I twisted and turned, trying to locate the sound of the chanting, but it remained ever present in the background. I tried moving in different directions, to see if it would get any louder or softer, and either through the passage of time or because I actually moved closer to it, it got louder and louder, until I heard that same word again, like it had been shouted from the mountaintops.

 

_Dovahkiin_.

 

With that, I awoke with a start, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. It was bright and I squinted as I went to sit up when I was pushed back down to a lying position by a kind looking priestess. “Rest a moment,” she said. “You may have hit your head when you fell, I want to make sure you are okay.”

 

I nodded, acquiescing. “Where am I?”

 

“You are in the Temple of Kynareth, in Whiterun. Your companions brought you here.”

 

“Companions? Where are they?”

 

“They are being checked on by the other priestesses. The Dunmer appears to be unscathed, but the Nord seems to have some minor injuries.” She assured with me a smile, “He should be fine, though. They were mostly worried about you. They said you had been in battle with a dragon!”

 

_Right, the dragon_. It seemed like so long ago that we had set out from Whiterun to confront the dragon threat, longer still since I’d jumped on his back and sent my sword through the base of his spine. In retrospect, it almost comically didn’t seem like me at all, like I’d been possessed in the heat of the moment. Things like jumping on a dragon was something that old warriors did, seasoned by battle. Not fresh fighters who had barely been in a fight in their life. Granted, Bleak Falls Barrow hadn’t been a cake walk, but it was miles away from fighting a _dragon_. Even then, it was one thing to sink arrow after arrow into it, it was quite another to jump onto it to halfway decapitate it. “Yes, we killed one outside of Whiterun.”

 

“Oh don’t let her be so modest, _she’s_ the one who jumped on its back and drove a sword through its neck.” I turned and saw a familiar Dunmer standing there, smirking.

 

“Caladh!”

 

He approached the healing table that I was lying on, giving the priestess enough of a berth so that she could continue her healing spells. “We were worried, Sera, when you collapsed. I trust she is well, then?” he asked of the priestess.

 

She nodded. “She appears to be. I would try to take it easy for a few days if I were you, but I know you types, you’ll be back out adventuring as soon as we set you loose, eh?”

 

He only smiled, he didn’t need to answer her. “Will she be ready to leave soon?”

 

“Soon, yes, I just want to give these healing spells an edge, then I’ll turn you all loose.”

 

As the priestess continued her work, I turned back to my Dunmer companion. “What about Sirius? Is he okay?”

 

“Much better now,” the Nord replied for himself as he made himself known, his signature grin on his face. I couldn’t tell if he really was better or if he was putting on a brave face, but he seemed far different than he’d looked when at the tower. “Would have been much worse off, if not for you. Though, I would really hope that in the future you refrain from jumping onto dragons.”

 

I chuckled. “I don’t intend to make a habit of it,” I replied as I sat up, as directed by the priestess. She checked me over one last time before finally giving me the okay to leave. “How long was I out?” I asked as we left the temple.

 

“Not too long,” Cal replied as we climbed the steps that led up to Dragonsreach. “You collapsed suddenly on the road outside of Whiterun while we were on our way back, and I carried you to the Temple. You awoke within ten minutes after the priestess started her healing spells.”

 

My cheeks flushed as I realized I had unnecessarily burdened Caladh. “Sorry.”

 

“No need to be sorry, it happens to the best of us,” he said with a grin.

 

I was meaning to ask him about something else, but by this time we had entered Dragonsreach and were being hastily gestured towards the Jarl’s seat to report in. We hadn’t been delayed long, but they’d likely been waiting anxiously for any word after we’d left. Proventus, the steward, approached us first. “Good, you’re finally here! The Jarl’s been waiting for you.”

 

Indeed, the Jarl seemed a fair more twitchy than he normally did, subtly biting at the inside of his cheek as he asked, “So what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?”

 

My companions stepped back ever so slightly, so I took it upon myself to answer. “The watchtower was destroyed, but we killed the dragon.”

 

Jarl Balgruuf seemed to visibly relax into his chair in relief at the news. “I knew I could count on Irileth.” He fixed me with a stare and added, “But there must be more to it than that.”

 

I pursed my lips, unsure how to phrase what I was about to say. “When the dragon died, I … I think I absorbed some kind of power from it.”

 

The Jarl chuckled softly. “So it’s true, the Greybeards really were summoning you.”

 

“The Greybeards, sir?” I asked.

 

“Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World.”

 

I was still a little confused. “But what would they want with me?”

 

“The Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted in the Voice, the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu’um or Shout. If you really are Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift.”

 

A Nord warrior standing nearby interjected. “Didn’t you hear the thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun? That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar! This hasn’t happened in … centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora.”

 

Proventus scoffed. “Hrongar, calm yourself, I doubt any of that Nord nonsense has anything to do with our friend. Capable as she may be, I’ve not seen any evidence of her being this fabled _Dragonborn_.”

 

Hrongar’s face immediately went red with rage. “Nord nonsense? Why you puffed up, ignorant … these are our sacred traditions and history that go back to the founding of the First Empire!”

 

Balgruuf intervened. “Brother, don’t be so hard on Avenicci.”

 

“I meant no disrespect, of course,” the steward conceded. “It’s just that … what would these Greybeards even want with her?”

 

Balgruuf brushed off the concern easily. “That’s the Greybeards’ business, not ours.” He turned back to me as he continued, “Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards sensed it. If they think you’re Dragonborn, who are we to argue? You’d better get up to High Hrothgar as soon as you can, there’s no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It’s a tremendous honour, my friend. I envy you. To climb the 7,000 steps again … I made the pilgrimage once, you know. High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place, very … disconnected from the troubles of this world. I wonder if the Greybeards even notice what’s going on down here. They haven’t seemed to care before.” He shook his head. “No matter. Go to High Hrothgar, learn what the Greybeards want to teach you. In that, you will fulfill whatever destiny you may have in this world. But first …” he rose from his seat and stepped right in front of me, “… you’ve done a great service to me and my city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It’s the greatest honour that’s within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal housecarl, and as badge of office, I ask that you report to Adrienne Avenicci immediately for an upgrade to your armor. Can’t have a Thane running about in _that_. I’ll also notify the guards of your new title, and I think you’ll find them friendlier. We are honoured to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn.”

 

“Um, sire,” Proventus interrupted.

 

“Yes, what is it, Proventus?”

 

“She doesn’t hold any property here.”

 

His brow furrowed. “Is that really necessary?”

 

“Thanes are typically expected to maintain a residence in the capitol city of their hold, are they not?”

 

He waved his hand. “Yes, yes, very well. Give her Breezehome, then.”

 

Proventus’ eyes bugged. “Excuse me, my Jarl, I don’t mean to be rude but did you just say, _give_ her Breezehome?”

 

“That is what I said. And make sure it is furnished, yes?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, sir, it will be done.” He turned to me, signing a piece of paper and handing it over to me. “Here is your deed, give us a couple of days to clean and furnish it and you can collect your key from me at any time.”

 

I nodded, feeling a little numb from everything that was happening. I had gone from wizard’s thrall to warrior in training to dungeon delver to dragon slayer and now Thane. The quick change was almost disorienting, and I was glad I had my companions with me as I doubted anyone would have believed me had I told them my tale. I had little gold to my name, had only just graduated from basic steel weapons, and now I had a house and was about to receive some special armor? I wondered if Mjoll would even believe me if I wrote her.

 

As we left Dragonsreach, on our way to Adrienne’s shop that sat right next to the main gate, I was full of confused feelings, some I couldn’t quite articulate. The first thing I was able to land on, however, was, “But that’s not fair, giving me the reward when you and the others did just as much to kill the dragon!”

 

Sirius laughed. “But you _were_ the only one to jump onto the dragon, Joanna, if anything that alone makes you solely deserving of the reward.”

 

“He didn’t know that, though!”

 

“The Jarl is a smart man, he realizes that if you are Dragonborn, you likely had a large part in killing the dragon,” the Nord replied matter-of-factly.

 

“It’s still not fair, you guys deserve something, too,” I pouted as we reached the bottom of the stairs outside Dragonsreach.

 

“We’ve had more than our share of rewards,” Sirius assured me. “We look merely for adventure. And you have certainly held up your part of the bargain for that. Besides,” he added with a poke at my ribs, “I think you’re probably due for an upgrade to that armor.”

 

“Hey! I made this myself!”

 

“And you did a fine job, Sera,” Caladh interjected. “But the Jarl is right, studded armor is not fitting for a Thane. Come, let’s see what the smith has for you.”

 

Adrienne Avenicci was hard at work at her forge outside her shop. I almost wanted to not bother her at all, but she noticed me and Cal and Sirius pushed me towards her, so I presented her with the paperwork the Proventus had given me along with the deed to Breezehome, and she lit up. “It’s not often I get to make specialty armor. And if you prefer light, I think I might have some almost ready! Give me just a moment.” She disappeared into the shop for a few minutes before reemerging with what initially looked like a pile of metal. “I’ve been developing this in my spare time for a while now, didn’t know if anyone would even get the chance to wear it. I’ve made it out of plate steel and iron, so it’s strong, but the way it’s made makes it just as light as hide armor, so you aren’t encumbered. Let me just make a few measurements so I can adjust it to fit you perfectly …” She barely even waited for me to nod my head before she was measuring around my waist and arms and thighs and the length of my arms and legs. She compared them to the armor she had and then set about pounding it into submission into the shape she desired. It didn’t take too many adjustments, thankfully, before she declared it done, grabbed my hand, and said, “Come with me, I want to put it on you the first time.”

 

I glanced back at my companions, who were chuckling at my slight discomfort and waved goodbye to me as I was pulled into the shop and then up a set of stairs and into the smith’s private quarters. I was a little self-conscious about stripping down in front of a stranger, but thankfully she didn’t make a big deal out of it and was nothing but professional, even though I’m sure I still stunk some from battle. Once everything was pulled on and in place and adjusted, she stood back to admire her handiwork. “Oh, it’s perfect! Just what I was wanting. And more than nice enough to suit our new Thane.” She beamed with delight. “Take a look, yourself!” she said as she gestured towards a long mirror.

 

I had to admit, having it all on really made for a nice effect. The shiny steel indeed was light, and put together, I looked downright _professional_. Before, I might have looked like a ranger or a hunter, wandering the wilds. I now looked like a proper, experienced adventurer. I wouldn’t look so out of place alongside Caladh and Sirius now, like I was some bumbling little sister that they were dragging along on their adventures. Instead, I now looked like an equal member of my little party, and I found a little part of myself hoping that they would like it, too. There was just one thing … I pulled my hair out of the ponytail I’d had it in and pulled the sides back, letting my wavy hair flow free. I pulled a few tendrils out around my face, but left the rest as is. _There._ Now I looked a little more grown up, like a full fledged woman instead of a teenager … even if I was past those years, now. I smiled into the mirror. “I love it, Adrienne, it looks really nice. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you for this at all?”

 

She shook her head. “The Jarl will compensate me for the armor I give you. Honestly, though, even if he didn’t, I’m so happy someone will finally get some use out of this. Pardon me,” she said as she sounded like she was tearing up, “I’ve just been working on this so long, I feel like a proud parent finally seeing it worn.”

 

I turned to face her. “I will wear it with honour, Adrienne. Always.”

 

Back outside, my companions were still waiting for me, and Sirius let out a low whistle as I emerged from the shop. “Fancy!” he exclaimed as I joined them.

 

I blushed, fingering my old armor that I still had in hand. “I think I’ll still keep my old armor, but I really like this new set.”

 

“As well you should, Sera, you wear it well,” Caladh said, beaming.

 

I was about to ask Caladh a question that had been niggling at the back of my head since soon after I woke up in the temple, but Sirius clapped my shoulder and exclaimed, “Now! Let us get some food and drink and _celebrate_! We killed a dragon!”

 

And so it was that we ended up back at The Bannered Mare, eating and drinking and relaying our story to the patrons who were curious enough to ask. The bard sang songs of battles and triumph in our honour and multiple people toasted to us. Well, when I say “us”, I really meant “me”, as despite how much I tried to include my companions in the story, everyone fixated on the Dragonborn. Caladh and Sirius simply laughed and went along with it, so I tried not to feel so uncomfortable with the attention. After all, undoubtedly news of me being Dragonborn would spread, so with or without them I would have to get used to this. I had been so focused on just finding my family, I felt this whole business was derailing me. As I sat there and sipped on some mead, I made a decision.

 

Once the place had calmed down a little, and Cal and Sirius and I had some quiet to ourselves, I announced, “I’m not going to the Greybeards.”

 

They seemed surprised. “Why not?” Sirius asked.

 

“I mean, I’m not going to the Greybeards _yet_. I set out to find my family, and there’s one town left for me to check, and it’s _in this hold_. I’m too close now to go jaunting off back to the Rift to get to the 7,000 steps.”

 

Sirius nodded. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do. They can wait for their blessed Dragonborn until she’s ready.” He smiled at me, and then added with a wink, “As for me, I want another refill, so if you’ll excuse me …”

 

He rose to make his way back to the bar, and since I finally had a chance to ask Caladh my question, I fixed my remaining companion with a gaze. “Cal, earlier today you called me ‘Sera’. What does that mean?”

 

The corners of the Dunmer’s elegant mouth quirked upward, and I would have sworn he was blushing if not for the lack of good lighting in the bar and the fact that his skin was a pale blue and no suited to otherwise showing colour. “It is a Dunmer term of endearment. It means, I consider you a good friend.”

 

“Oh,” I simply replied, feeling a certain heat creep back into my cheeks.

 

“I can stop, if you wish.”

 

“No, no! It’s just … I didn’t know what it meant.” I smiled. “I consider you a good friend, too.”

 

Caladh smiled widely as Sirius joined us once more. In the morning, we would journey to Rorikstead, but for now we celebrated … victory, friendship, and just the simple joys of being alive. I didn’t know what the future might hold for me, now that I was named Dragonborn, but for now this mythical heroine in the making would settle for some well-deserved answers, answers to questions concerning my own past. And I would get them, too. All in good time.

 

\-----------

 

     

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: I know I have Rape/Non-Con tagged on this story, but since it hasn't actually cropped up yet, I just wanted to give another warning that that tag will be coming into play starting in this chapter.

The next morning when we set out for Rorikstead, it was cloudy and grey, a soft rain falling from the sky as we left Whiterun. I pulled my new cloak around me, thankful for the warmth provided both by it and my new armor. It was definitely a lot warmer than the studded armor I’d previously been wearing, though I kept that armor tucked in my pack. One never knew what might be needed down the road, and I wasn’t about to just throw away something potentially useful. Later on down the road, perhaps, I might sell it if I was in a bind, but the fact that not only was it my first set of armor but the first set that I crafted myself, I couldn’t find it in myself to part with it just yet.

 

There was an official road that traveled between Rorikstead and Whiterun, but because it connected with other roads going to Falkreath and Markarth and Solitude, it curved further away from Rorikstead than we really needed to travel. So after consulting a map, we struck out cross-country, taking the most direct route to the town. I would have been hesitant to do so on my own, preferring the safety of the road even if it added a couple of hours to my travel, but because I had my companions with me, I felt confident enough to follow them. We quickly slipped across the plains, edging around giant camps and avoiding known bandit lairs. When we finally reached Gjukar’s Monument, I knew we were getting close, and it was then that we finally hopped back on the road, following it the short ways into Rorikstead.

 

It wasn’t long before the small village was in sight, the scattered buildings and worked farmland coming into view as we veered around a small hill. The rain had finally let up and the sun was finally shining through the clouds. My heart was pounding as we neared, anxious to find out any information, if there was even any to be had. If there wasn’t … well, I wasn’t sure what I would do next. I hadn’t really planned for the possibility that Rorikstead would hold no answers for me. Everything hinged on this. In my mind I’d built it up so far that if I came here and failed … I had no plan for the fallout.

 

So this _had_ to work.

 

As we strolled into the town, a young red-haired farmer looked up at our arrival. We weren’t exactly inconspicuous, so I wasn’t surprised, but what did surprise me was his reaction. He blinked several times, almost as if he wasn’t sure that what he saw was true, and then he called out, “Joanna?”

 

I stopped in my tracks, the young farmer and I just staring at each other. My heart had almost stopped when he’d called me by my name, wondering just how he knew me, how he knew my name. _He must know me! He must know my family!_ “You know me?” I finally asked.

 

He looked at me strangely. “Of course I do, we grew up together. Well, until …” He shook his head. “My name is Erik. Don’t you remember?”

 

I couldn’t help but think, _What? Until what?_ Outwardly, I retained a little bit more decorum instead of giving into the demanding hysteria that I knew was so close. “I am sorry, but I don’t. Did you know my family?”

 

“Aye, of course. They used to own Shoal’s Rest Farm, just up the road.”

 

“Used to? What do you mean _used to_? Did they move?”

 

Erik winced as he replied, his voice softer, “No, they … they died. Years ago. Murdered in their sleep. The same night that you disappeared.” My blood felt like it turned to ice in my veins, and I had to actively work to make myself keep breathing or else I felt that I would stop. It felt like a heavy weight had settled itself into my chest and while I could hear Erik still talking, it sounded like he was far away. “We feared the worst, when we found your parents and your brother slain, but since your body was missing we had hope. We searched as long as we could, as far as we could, but we never found you, not even a trace of you. Where have you been all this time? Joanna? Joanna?”

 

At the sound of my name, I finally broke out of the stupor I had been in. I felt on the verge of tears but I blinked them back. “I don’t know. I was under some kind of spell, I only recently broke out of it. When I did, I was in a cave, somewhere near Riften, with a dark wizard.” I looked Erik in the eyes. “I killed him, when I broke out of it. I killed him and ran and I’ve been hunting, searching for any hint of my family ever since. I never thought that …” I trailed off then. It didn’t need to be said again. I had never once even considered that my family might not even be alive. In my mind, I had always seen myself as finding them, reuniting with them. Being pulled into a loving embrace with my parents and any siblings I might have had. I had pictured this, held on to this the whole time since I’d stepped out of that cave. And now … now that vision, that hope was all for naught. My family was dead. They always had been. I’d been chasing after ghosts.

 

Erik stepped closer to me. “I’m sorry, truly.” He paused for a moment before he added, “A new family bought the place, just a few years after you disappeared. They knew your parents and I think they’ve kept some things. If you want to stop by, I’m sure they’d be more than happy to see you after all this time.”

 

I nodded. “Thank you.” I felt like I should say more than just that, but what else was there to say?

 

My companions and I trudged up the road in silence. They didn’t attempt to have any sort of conversation and neither did I. I felt numb and withdrawn, like this was all some nasty dream that I would soon wake from. But I didn’t. This was real. Just as real as the small rocks under my feet and the quiet breeze on my face. In that short walk, I did my best to compose myself, to be ready to confront this reality in the face. I didn’t know how I would react to seeing the farm I was said to have grown up on, if my memories would come flooding back or if I would still be lost in a haze of uncertainty, but I didn’t want to fall apart, not in front of Caladh and Sirius and especially not in front of strangers.

 

The farm sat on the north side of Rorikstead, just outside of the town proper. There was an older man and woman, the couple who had bought the farm I assumed, working in the fields alongside a few, younger individuals I assumed were farmhands for lack of familial similarity. They were hard at work, harvesting what had been planted. Winter was just around the corner, they couldn’t afford to be lazy. I cleared my throat as I approached and said, “Excuse me.”

 

The woman looked up and startled to see me at first, but quickly collected herself and asked, “Yes? Can I help you?”

 

I licked my lips, trying to figure out how exactly to word what I was going to say. “You own this farm, yes?”

 

“I do, along with my husband. You … you wouldn’t happen to be Joanna, would you?”

 

“I am. Did you know me?”

 

She smiled softly. “The last time I saw you, you were but a babe.” She chuckled as she added, “You look so much like your mother, though, for a moment I thought I was seeing a ghost.” Tears clearly glistened in her eyes as she asked, “What happened to you? Where have you been all these years?”

 

I swallowed hard to desperately hold on to the composure I had. “With a dark wizard who held me under his spell. I was only able to recently break out of it. I … I don’t really remember anything. I’ve been searching, hoping to find …” My voice choked off as I was unable to speak to my hopes anymore. I felt stupid, in a way, in thinking that I could simply find my family and rejoin them, go back to the way things were before I’d been snatched. The only way I would join them now was in death.

 

She nodded, understanding what I couldn’t put words to. “I’ve kept a few things, things that were important to your parents, hoping and praying that one day you would come back. I’m sorry it’s not much, but you’re welcome to it.” She pulled a key out of the pocket of her apron and presented it to me. “There’s a chest inside, at the foot of the large bed just as you walk in. Take everything you want from it, it’s all yours.”

 

Again, I said, “Thank you,” though I felt I should say more. There was nothing more to say, however, and as she turned to go back to tending to the harvest, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

 

“Do you want us to come with you?” Caladh asked.

 

I shook my head firmly. Despite appreciating the offer, this was something I felt I had to do on my own.

 

It was a little dark inside in the farmhouse, the only light currently from the fireplace and the cracks around the door. I fetched a candle from the bedside table and lit it from the fire, carrying it back with me to the chest at the foot of the bed that I’d been directed to. This place, this home … it did seem familiar. Like I didn’t exactly remember it specifically, but that the presence and the atmosphere that surrounded me was recognized by something in my subconscious. Not quite like I had been here before, except perhaps in a dream. I supposed that was better than nothing as I put key to lock and opened the old cedar chest.

 

There admittedly wasn’t much in the chest, though I hadn’t been expecting there to be. From the information I’d ascertained since arriving in Rorikstead, my parents were simple farmers, nobody extravagant. Just simple people eking a simple living out in the fields, raising their children as best they could. There were some books, most of them children’s books that I assume me and my brother had grown up on. The pages were soft and worn, indicating they had been read quite a bit, and I momentarily got a flash of a memory … of sitting by the fire on cold winter nights, bundled up to ward off the cold as I read. I swallowed back tears as I tucked them into my pack, determined to keep them. They would be too heavy to keep in my pack forever, but perhaps I could drop them off at my new home in Whiterun. There was also a nice dress that I assumed had belonged to my mother. It was probably the only nice one she’d owned, pulling it out at holidays and special events. Like with the books, I got another flash of a memory, of watching a tall woman tug on the same dress and braid her hair, smiling at me the whole while until a large, bearded man joined her side and kissed her. For the first time, I remembered my mother and father, and I couldn’t hold back the few tears that leaked out of my eyes at the vision in my mind’s eye. I did indeed resemble my mother, though she had been taller and more built than I was. Perhaps in time, with adventuring, I would build up my muscles similarly as she had working the farm, but I wasn’t there yet. My father was tall and burly and broad chested, and while he didn’t have much hair on his head it all seemed to come out in a bushy beard. My heart ached as I finally remembered them.

 

And alongside them, a boy, older than me by perhaps a few years, tall and lanky. He was still working on building muscle , but right now it was all lean. His hair was reddish brown, just a little darker than my own, and his face was still smooth, but despite that I could tell that he resembled our father more than our mother. I gasped and covered my mouth, closing my eyes as memories started coming back to me. Playing with my brother when we were young, putting in work in the fields when we were old enough, feeling awkward as I started growing and becoming a young woman, teasing my brother as his voice cracked, whispering conversations to each other in the dark when our parents had gone to bed. Seemingly endless summers and winters that we spent around each other, both teasing and loving each other in that way that only brothers and sisters can. How could I have ever forgotten? _Rorygg._ My mother’s and father’s name I found on their old copy of the deed, though they came back to me before I even read it. Still, my fingers smoothed over the old, faded ink. _Savard and Brynja_. I simply looked at the names for a few minutes, just trying to remember as much as I could about them. It was starting to come back to me, slowly but surely, now that I was confronted by direct links to my past.

 

Also in the chest was a modest sum of money, I assume made from selling off the majority of things that the new family didn’t want and couldn’t afford to just keep around indefinitely. Alongside it was a shiny, silver talisman I recognized as an amulet of Talos. It was unique, as most amulets of Talos were carved out of some sort of stone. This one, however, looked to be cast out of metal and polished to a high shine. Even after spending years locked away in a chest, it still shone in the candlelight. I held it in my hands for a moment, fingers brushing over the cool metal, and as it reflected off the light, I got yet another flash of memory, but this one was covered in blood.

 

It was still a bit of a haze, but I remembered being in the downstairs room, the room that my brother and I called our own, when I heard the first thump. It was loud and felt like it shook the house, and a second one quickly followed it. A muffled scream, followed by a third. By this time, I was on my feet and quietly ascending the stairs, however as soon as my vision crested the floor, I paused, my eyes widening. The bodies of my family laid there, bleeding out onto the floor, the life leaving their eyes as they gave up the ghost there in front of me. I felt frozen, unable to move or even scream as I heard footfalls traverse near me. I snapped my head around to see a hooded mage at the top of the stairs. A wicked grin crossed his face as he whispered an incantation. I opened my mouth to scream, but a sickly purple light enveloped me before I could make a sound. After that, it was like I had no control over my body, like I was still present but I couldn’t do anything. I was at this dark wizard’s mercy, and he pulled me up the stairs to stand with him at the top. He was breathing heavily, and at the time I’d thought it odd, but I didn’t know what to make of it as he guided me closer to the fire, closer to the bodies. “Mmmm, yes, yes. _Perfect_ ,” I remembered him saying. I didn’t know what he meant at first, but I soon found out.

 

I felt his lips press against my forehead, my nose, my cheek, traveling down my neck as a lone tear escaped me. I felt his wet, slimy tongue on my skin and I almost shuddered in revulsion, if I’d had enough control of my body to do so. His breathing only got heavier and heavier as he laid me on the floor, hiking up my nightgown with his bony hands and tearing away the underwear I had on underneath. I felt like I might throw up as I felt his weight on me, his hands positioning me just the way he wanted me until I was just right and I finally felt something hard and unwelcome pressing against my entrance. Even if I could have physically moved, I don’t think I could have as even mentally I froze up, fear and anguish enveloping me as he took me right there, right in front of my dead family, the last thing I could coherently remember being the shine of my father’s amulet against the firelight.

 

I gasped as the memory finally let go of me, tears streaming down my face, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I looked down and though I couldn’t physically see it, in my mind’s eye all I saw was blood. I hurriedly shoved the rest of the things in the chest in my pack, left the key on top of it, and booked it out of the small farmhouse.

 

The new farm owners were busy out in the field, but my companions were waiting for me by the side of the road. I didn’t pay them any heed, however, as I needed to just … just get out of there. Right now. My stomach was churning as I desperately walked as fast as I could I heard Cal and Sirius as they called out to me, but I ignored them as I walked swiftly up an old, abandoned pathway, overgrown with weeds, until I could go no further and I rested my hand against a large boulder as my stomach retched its contents onto the ground, tears squeezing out of the corners of my eyes as I gagged and choked on the remnants of my breakfast.

 

I felt a cool hand against my forehead and a soothing voice at my shoulder. “Sera?”

 

My throat felt constricted, like I couldn’t bring myself to form any kind of answer yet as I knelt there, shaking like a leaf. Another, familiar figure walked around and knelt in front of me, and I saw that it was Sirius this time, his grey eyes etched with concern. “Joanna? What happened?”

 

I could only get out, “I remember …” before a sob choked off my voice, and all I knew was tears and gasping sobs as I struggled to get a hold of myself. I didn’t even remember them gently moving me to sit on a nearby stone, but the next thing I could definitively remember was Caladh’s soft voice in my ear directing me on how to breathe slowly and deeply. I was still shaking and I felt like I could be sick at any minute, but after a time I finally felt a strange calm wash over me. It wasn’t a relieving kind of calm, it was the kind of calm that follows when you feel like you’ve cried yourself out, and you still hurt but it becomes more of a _numb_ feeling more than anything else. That was what I felt. But, the tears had finally subsided and I felt present with my companions once more. That had to count for something.

 

I heard Sirius’ voice at my side as he said, “Why don’t we go back to the Inn, eh? Have a pint and relax?” I nodded, desperately wanting anything that would wash this acrid memory from my mind. I stayed silent the whole walk back into Rorikstead, speaking only when I requested a bottle of Nord Mead from the Innkeeper. Once we all had our ordered drinks, we retreated to a corner of the Inn and drank in silence.

 

After a few rounds, it was probably around noon when Erik and the other farmers walked in, ordering food for their lunch. Erik in particular hung around the Innkeeper, talking to him about something or another. Talking really wasn’t quite the correct term to use, however, because it was more like an argument carried out in harsh whispers. In the end, Erik finally slunk away from the counter, his shoulders drooping as he took a table near us. Maybe it was the mead coursing through me or maybe it was the potential I saw for a distraction, but I finished off the bottle I held and sauntered over to him, dropping to a seat next to him. “Hey,” I started, gently.

 

“Hey,” he returned, obviously in a foul mood but making no move to take it out on me, to which I was grateful.

 

“What was all that about?” I asked as I set a hand on his shoulder, hoping that I could help him in some way.

 

He shook his head. “Just my father, Mralki. He wants me to stay and tend to the farms, but I want to be an adventurer. See the world. Experience … so much more than just a meager farm boy existence.”

 

I patted his shoulder and rose, having all the information I really needed. I walked back toward the counter and ordered another bottle of mead, waiting until Mralki handed it to me to ask, “Why do you not let your son go adventuring? He is old enough, yes? And there are others to work the fields.”

 

He sighed, clearly exasperated. “These are dangerous times, with a civil war brewing. I don’t want him to get dragged into something that’s over his head.”

 

“Shouldn’t that be his decision, though? He is not a boy.”

 

“I know that, it’s just … even if I let him, I can’t afford to properly outfit him. Rorikstead isn’t exactly a port of trade here in Skyrim, I barely make enough to keep this place running. I can’t afford to save up to even buy him a sword, much less a set of armor.”

 

“If the finances are your only problem, I can take care of that,” I said hastily, mentally tallying the gold in my sack. It should be just enough to get him a basic set and maybe a couple of weapons. Not much and nothing fancy, that was for sure, but enough for him to start with.

 

“Really? You’d … you’d do that?”

 

“Of course,” I replied as I pulled out my sack of gold, taking out most of it and handing it over. “We should all choose our own path in this world.”

 

“Thank you, thank you. I … I know this will mean a lot to Erik. First chance I’ll get I’ll take him over to Whiterun and have him fitted.”

 

I nodded. “Mention my name to the smith there, Adrienne. I’m not sure if knowing the Thane of Whiterun will get you a small discount or not, but it couldn’t hurt to try,” I said with a wink, grabbing my fresh bottle and stopping by Erik’s table on the way back to my companions. “I convinced your father to let you be an adventurer, once he can take you to get armor.”

 

Erik immediately perked up. “You did? Really? Thank you!”

 

“Hey, don’t mention it,” I said as I went to join my friends.

 

As I went to step away, however, Erik grasped my hand. “One day, you’ll have to promise me you’ll come back and visit, and we’ll share our tales of adventures over a bottle of mead.”

 

“Yeah,” I said, softly. “One day. I don’t think I’ll be coming back here for a while, though.”

 

“Oh? Why is that?”

 

“I just …” I shook my head, blinking back tears. “There’s nothing left for me here.” I managed a smile for him as I added, “Just take care of yourself, Erik. I’m gonna hold you to that bottle of mead.”

 

He grinned. “Of course.”

 

We spent the night at the Inn, as none of us felt like making the return journey to Whiterun just yet. I wasn’t sure what the path I walked held next, but I knew that I wouldn’t find it in Rorikstead, not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the major chapters that I've been absolutely dying to write, and despite its darkness I hope that y'all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. No real excuse, I knew where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do (I've already done it in game), I was just kind of lazy, and I let my depression get to me and zap my will and creativity. Sorry.

The next morning, we packed up to head to Ivarstead, as I didn’t really know where else to go at the moment. Rorikstead, while it had held the answers I’d sought, it just wasn’t home. I didn’t really know where that was. It was an odd feeling, to have no sense of belonging, no sense of a place to return to. I felt lost, like before, but this time I had no goal, no possibilities, no leads to chase. It was just me and my traveling companions and the vast, open wilds of Skyrim. It left an empty, hollow feeling in the center of my chest, a feeling I ignored as tied on my family’s Talos amulet before I pulled on my custom-made armor. This was the only part of me that didn’t feel fake. I _earned_ the office of Thane of Whiterun. Despite everything, I was the Dragonborn of legend.

 

And I still had an appointment with the Greybeards.

 

The night before, I had decided to skip returning to Whiterun in favour of heading to Ivarstead and High Hrothgar. The burning questions that I’d had about my past and my family were answered. The fact that they were far less than satisfactory didn’t matter, the answers had been given. My quest to uncover my past was over and done. I wanted to move on. I couldn’t continue to dwell in the past and what might have been. To do so would only hold me back and stop me from becoming who I could be. Who that was, I wasn’t quite sure yet, but I knew it couldn’t be found in this small farming community. No, whoever I was meant to be, that journey started at the base of the 7,000 steps.

 

My new goal in mind, we left amidst the bright sunshine and chirping birds and set off down the road. Our journey would initially take us past Whiterun, but unfortunately the carriages didn’t go to Ivarstead, so we would have to travel there on foot. Because of the way The Throat of the World was positioned, we couldn’t just run by Riverwood and then cut across, we would have to go all the way around, into the Rift, and then jut back over. Not exactly a short journey, and my companions estimated that we would likely have to camp out in the wilds. Normally that prospect would have frightened me, but between my upgraded armor and weapons, the two men that accompanied me, and the fact that I had recently killed a dragon, I was feeling confident. There was, of course, an Inn in Kynesgrove, but that would have taken us off track from our destination, and I didn’t feel like backtracking. Thankfully, my companions weren’t averse to camping, either, and so we kept to the road until the sun started to set and so we veered off just slightly into a clearing so we could set up camp. Sirius and I gathered brush and small logs so that we could start a fire while Caladh set up a tent. We wandered only a short distance away, laughing as we bent over to pick up sticks and dry leaves when we both heard someone yell. I stilled at the same time as Sirius, and I asked, “Did you hear that?”

 

He opened his mouth to reply when we heard it again, along with a clanging of weapons, and we both dropped our bundle and drew our weapons as we honed in on its source. It didn’t take long before we stumbled upon a few bandits trying to work over a well-armored woman. She wasn’t making it easy on them, that was for sure, but someone had sliced open her thigh so she was done on one knee, swinging her two ebony axes to ward them off. Sirius and I broke into the clearing, our presence alone almost scaring them off. One did run off all on his own, trying to escape, but I quickly strung an arrow and dropped him as Sirius drove his sword through another. The woman lunged forward and plunged the edges of her axes through the chest of the last bandit, grinning as he fell. She looked up to regard us, her eyes flashing with the battle, her shock of red hair tangled. “I thank you, my countrymen, for your assistance. I only wonder …” she winced as she continued, “… if you could afford a little more?”

 

“Of course, I replied, tucking away my bow and walking over to her, supporting her weight and gently guiding her back to our camp. Sirius quickly backtracked and grabbed the bundles of sticks and leaves that we’d dropped and reunited with us before we even broke the clearing that we were camping in. Cal raised a delicate eyebrow to see someone else in tow, but he didn’t say anything, simply taking the bundle from Sirius and setting out starting a fire. I helped the woman get settled by the campsite before I pulled some supplies out of my bag. First things first, I cleaned up her wound, and found it wasn’t as deep or as serious as I’d initially thought. It needed to be stitched, certainly, and she would be sore for a bit, but with just some stitches and a healing potion she’d be fine. I handed her a bottle of Nord Mead to help ease the pain as I quickly and quietly stitched her up, and to her credit she didn’t complain. She actually seemed a bit nonchalant about the whole thing, downing the mead almost immediately and then leaning back on her palms as I finished. “So, who are you, then?” she asked.

 

“My name’s Joanna,” I replied as I knotted after the last stitch, grabbing the bandages to wrap around and secure the wound. “Sirius is over there and Caladh is the one starting the fire.”

 

She nodded to each of my companions in turn before she introduced herself. “My name is Rohirra Heart-Fire, Captain of the Guard in Windhelm.”

 

“You’re a …”

 

“A Stormcloak, yes. In these times I would not normally dare to travel alone, but I had urgent business to attend to that couldn’t wait.” She chuckled under her breath as she added, “Galmar won’t let me hear the end of this.”

 

“Well, we’re not going to Windhelm, or else I’d help you get there. We can drop you off in Ivarstead, if you want, maybe someone there can help you get back.”

 

“No need, I’ll be fine after a night’s rest. I’ve been wounded more grievously than this.” She paused before she asked, “What are you doing in Ivarstead?”

 

“I’m climbing the 7,000 steps to answer the Greybeard’s summons.”

 

“The Greybeard’s … wait, you mean … _you_ are the Dragonborn?” I smiled shyly, nodding, and she let out a laugh. “Shor’s beard, well I’m honoured to be in your company then. And, if you ever do wander into Windhelm, just mention my name at the Palace, my word will get you anything you need.”

 

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be there, but if I am, I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

“And why wouldn’t you? It’s one of the oldest cities in Skyrim. The Palace of the Kings was established by Ysgramor, himself.”

 

“It’s a bit of a point of contention, though, isn’t it?” I asked as I finished binding her leg.

 

She sighed. “This damn war has pitted brother against brother, father against son, kin against kin for too long. So many have lost sight of what we fight for.”

 

“And what is that, exactly?” I asked as I handed her a small healing potion.

 

“The liberty to worship Talos openly and without fear of recourse. It is so deeply ingrained in our culture … and we were never asked when the Concordant was signed! We would have refused! But the damn Imperials tucked tail and agreed. Jarl Ulfric wouldn’t stand for it, he fought for this country with the Imperials, he was loyal for ages, but he could not tolerate that kind of blatant disrespect.” She paused before she added, “Talos was Dragonborn himself, was he not? Do you feel no kinship with him?”

 

I paused in re-packing my supplies, considering the question. My memories were still a little hazy, still coming back to me, but I felt the weight of the amulet underneath my armor. It was a special amulet, not one of the many standard ones carved out of wood or bone one could find around Skyrim. It looked to be cast of Silver or some other metal, which signified its importance to my family. Even if I couldn’t remember outright, Talos was intricately connected to me in more ways than one.

 

Before I could answer, however, Caladh spoke up. “And what of the extremists? The ones who think Skyrim should be home to only Nords and would seek to banish anyone else from these lands?”

 

Rohirra made a face of disgust as she replied, “Believe me, nobody is happy they are trying to coopt our cause. Most are quiet around _real_ Stormcloaks, too afraid and timid around the real warriors to speak their mind. And those that aren’t …” she flashed a wicked smile, “… they get taught a lesson. They forget their own history. Nords were not the first ones here, we immigrated here from Atmora, same as anyone else, save the Snow Elves. We aren’t a perfect people, but we should be able to worship who we want. That’s all.”

 

Nothing more was spoken of the civil war that night, the rest of the conversation pleasant and flowing. Once we worked out who was on watch - Rohirra even volunteering for a shift - Caladh and Sirius retired to the tent while I sat out near the fire with our new, temporary companion. She had let down her hair and untangled it, smoothing out the fiery locks before rebraiding it. She looked so young, yet she was so old for her age, her face already bearing the scars of a warrior. She didn’t seem bothered by it, and we ended up talking in depth about her life, growing up in Windhelm with Ulfric and his now housecarl, Galmar, fighting in the Imperial Legion with them, forming the Stormcloaks with them. They seemed like a tight-knit bunch, and while I’m sure Nords across Skyrim questioned Ulfric’s motives, Rohirra was completely sure in her old friend, extolling his virtues and admitting his faults. I appreciated her honest candor, and she did give me a lot to think about as I shook Sirius awake for his shift and tucked into the sleep roll he abandoned. First things first, though, I still had the Greybeards waiting on me.

 

The next morning, as the sun crested over the horizon, Caladh shook Sirius and I awake. Rohirra shared some of her food supplies with us for breakfast, in thanks for rescuing her and patching her up, and she repeated her promise that I would be treated well should I go to Windhelm before she packed up and left us. She walked with a slight limp, and I was sure she would be sore as all hell by the time she got back to the palace, but she was determined to make the rest of the journey on her own. I shook my head at her stubbornness as I finished packing up, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything before I helped Sirius take down the tent. Once Caladh smothered the fire he’d built we set off toward Ivarstead. We’d made good time the previous day, and so it wasn’t but about mid-morning that we finally found ourselves in the small little town that sat nestled against the tallest mountain in Skyrim. Ivarstead wasn’t our real destination, however, it was only the beginning, and we trudged across the town and to the base of the mountain where the 7,000 steps began. It seemed even more daunting once we were at the base of it, but I sighed and pushed it aside, leading the way.

 

The climb took the better part of the day, but I didn’t want to stop to rest until we had made it up. Wolves tried to accost us, to no avail, and even a Troll attacked us, but nothing would stop me once I was on the path. I sheathed my blade once the creature lay dead and trudged ever onward and upward, seemingly forever, until we finally reached the base of High Hrothgar.

 

There’s certainly something to be said for the intimidating look and feel of an old stone gothic building built into the side of a mountain. I couldn’t imagine how cold it must be inside, but I pulled my cloak further around me as I climbed the last few steps and opened the door, stepping inside with naught but a whisper, unsure of what to expect.

 

An old man in dark grey robes approached me as soon as I entered, greeting me. “So … a Dragonborn appears, at this moment, in the turning of the age.”

 

I cleared my throat before I replied. “I’m answering your summons.”

 

He nodded. “We will see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn, let us taste of your voice.”

 

In the dim lighting, I realized that there were more men standing behind him, watching silently, waiting to see what happened. Was I really supposed to shout at them? I’d only done so once, but I took a breath, steadied myself, and shouted, “FUS!”

 

The staggered backwards slightly, but recovered quicker than I thought. The first man who approached me smiled as he came closer. “Dragonborn, it is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now, tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?”

 

“Well, I … didn’t you summon me?”

 

He nodded. “We did. We hoped you would come to us, and you did. We are honoured to welcome a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar. If you would allow us, we will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of your destiny.”

 

I could use some guidance, that was for sure, and if he was offering then I was all for accepting. “And what is my destiny?”

 

“That is for you to discover. We can show you the Way, but not your destination.”

 

Not quite what I was expecting or hoping for, but it was a damn sight better than nothing. “I’m ready.”

 

Arngeir folded his arms in front of him as he spoke. “You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen. Without training, you have already taken the first steps toward projecting your Voice into a Thu’um, a Shout. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn. When you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of three Words, and as you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger. Master Einarth will now teach you ‘RO’, the second Word in Unrelenting Force. ‘RO’ means ‘balance’ in the dragon tongue. Combine it with ‘FUS’ - ‘force’ - to focus your Thu’um more sharply.”

 

As he motioned, another elderly man stepped forward, smiling gently at me. He then turned to the floor and breathed, “RO.” I blinked a few times, as if my eyes deceived me, but indeed glowing words appeared on the floor, similar to the ones I’d seen in Bleak Falls Barrow. I stepped closer to it, feeling drawn to it until an energy filled me and my mind with understanding.

 

Arngeir raised his eyebrows slightly. “You learn a new word like a master … you truly do have the gift. But learning a Word of Power is only the first step. You must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, however, you can absorb a slain dragon’s life force and knowledge directly. As part of your initiation, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of ‘RO’.”

 

Einarth bowed slightly to me, and a rushing feeling overcame me, similar to when I’d killed the dragon outside of Whiterun. It was such a rush I almost felt dizzy at the new information and power that was tingling through me. I was excited to see what was next.

 

The elder Greybeard was ready for the next portion. “Now, let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu’um. Use your Unrelenting Force to strike the targets as they appear.”

 

Targets? I didn’t see any targets. But as I thought that, a third Greybeard stepped forward and used a Shout of his own. “FLIK LO SAH!”

 

A shadow appeared in the middle of the room. Startled at first, I let loose the Shout purely on instinct. “FUS RO!” At that, the shadow staggered and disappeared. Arngeir had me do the same thing three times, and all three times I easily defeated the shadows using only my voice. I was starting to feel a little more confident, like maybe I really could figure out what I was meant to do after all. After the last target was taken down, Arngeir stepped forward again. “Impressive. Your Thu’um is precise. You show great promise, indeed, Dragonborn. We will perform your next trial in the courtyard. Follow Master Borri, please.”

 

He motioned to a slightly younger looking monk behind him, and I followed them, my companions and the rest of the Greybeards following after. Once we had all convened in the courtyard, Arngeir explained what was going to happen. “We will now see how you learn a completely new Shout. Master Borri will teach you ‘WULD’, which means ‘whirlwind’.”

 

Just like before, the monk simply breathed the word and it appeared on the ground, ready for me to absorb as soon as I stepped near it. After I’d learned and understood it, Borri then bestowed me with the gift of his knowledge of the Word, and I swear I trembled from the intake of so much information all at once.

 

“Now,” Arngeir started, “we will see how quickly you can master a brand new Shout. Master Wulfgar will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint. Then, it will be your turn. Master Borri?”

 

Borri nodded and turned around, taking a breath before he shouted, “BEX!”

 

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it opened a gate on the far side of the courtyard. Wulfgar then readied himself and shouted, “WULD NAH KEST!” Suddenly, he was standing on the other side of the gate, leaving only a breeze in his wake. He calmly folded his hands inside his sleeves as he stood there like this was just completely normal, like this happened every day.

 

“Now it is your turn,” Arngeir said. “Stand next to me. When Master Borri opens the gate, use Whirlwind Spring to pass through before it closes.”

 

I nodded, readying myself. Borri shouted once more and the gate opened. Immediately, when it did, I shouted, “WULD!” I felt like I was tugged forward by an outward force, not like I had quickly run the distance but like I had just suddenly transported on the other side. Wulfgar smiled gently at me as he stood there with me before we walked back around to where the other Greybeards and my companions were standing.

 

“Your quick master of a new Thu’um is … astonishing,” Arngeir admitted as I drew close. “I’d heard the stories of the abilities of a Dragonborn, but to see it for myself …”

 

I shrugged, a light blush alighting on my cheeks. “I don’t know how I do it, really. It just happens.”

 

Arngeir nodded. “You were given this gift by the gods for a reason. It is up to you to figure out how best to use it. You are now ready for your last trial.”

 

I nodded, standing up a bit straighter. “What’s next?”

 

“Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice and you will return.”

 

That was it? A simple retrieve quest? Well, if that is what the leader of the Greybeards wished of me, then that’s what I would do. I nodded and bowed slightly as I replied, “It will be done.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I'd been avoiding this simply because I knew I was going to have to deal with Delphine and I just hate that bitch. I think you can tell in the writing here LOL.
> 
> BTW, I left a reference to The Devil's Rejects in here. ;)

I grumbled and growled as we all made our way back to Riverwood from Ustengrav. We’d gone in there, fought both necromancers and draugr alike, tracked through the _entire_ tomb … and the damn horn was missing. In its place was a note that said to meet a “friend” in Riverwood by asking to rent the attic room in the Sleeping Giant Inn. I was livid that we’d trekked all that way for nothing, and so help me if Talos himself couldn’t restrain me, I was about to give this “friend” a piece of my goddamn mind. Cal and Sirius were just as puzzled as I was, as they had previously holed up in the Sleeping Giant Inn and didn’t remember there being an attic … they debated about it back and forth as I trudged on silently, fuming the whole way. I wasn’t the best of company on the journey back, but neither of my companions acknowledged it or said anything about it, letting me pout in my fury and disappointment.

 

Once we arrived in Riverwood, I dug out 10 septims from my pack, a standard going rate for a room. I wasn’t about to pay more for a room just to meet someone who’d taken what I needed. They would be lucky if I didn’t pull my bow on them on sight, just on principle.

 

The door to the Sleep Giant Inn opened with a creak, letting in some fresh air with us as we entered the establishment. The air smelled of ale and smoke and food, and would have been refreshing and welcome had I not been as annoyed as I was. A solidly middle-aged woman approached us as we entered, and I recognized her from being in the Inn before. She smiled pleasantly enough as she approached us. “Welcome back to the Sleeping Giant Inn. Can I get you anything?”

 

I sighed and handed her the septims. “Yeah, I’d like to rent the attic room.”

 

She looked a little surprised, but pocketed the coins. “Attin room, eh? Well … we don’t have an attic room …” I heard Sirius nudge Cal behind him, as if it was a mental _I told you so_ , “… but, if you want, you can have the one of the left there. Make yourself at home.”

 

“Thank you,” I replied, my smile strained as I headed right to the room, Cal and Sirius on my heels. I sighed heavily as I closed the door behind us, collapsing into the chair as Sirius sat on the bed and Caladh leaned against the small bedside table. “So what now?” I asked. “Is this just a bust, then?” I didn’t need to ask the obvious question … _What if I don’t find the horn?_

 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, startling me. I eyed it suspiciously, putting a hand on my ebony dagger before bidding whoever was on the other side, “Come in.”

 

It was the female innkeeper from before, the one who had given me the room. I wasn’t sure what she was coming in for, we hadn’t indicated we wanted anything ordered, and I think my companions were equally suspicious as I heard them adjust slightly, just enough to where they could easily draw their weapons should they need them. If she noticed our heightened awareness, she didn’t say anything about it, looking at me directly as she said, “So you’re the Dragonborn, then. I’ve been hearing a lot about you. I think you’re looking for this, yes?” With that, she produced the horn of Jurgen Windcaller from her skirts, holding it out to me with both hands. “We need to talk. Follow me, please.”

 

“Now wait here just a minute!” I exclaimed, hopping up and snatching the horn from her. “What exactly makes you think I want to talk about anything with you?” She looked startled at my reaction. “We went to Ustengrav all the way from High Hrothgar just to find an empty goddamn tomb, and _then_ had to come all the way back here. We’re all tired, I’m _exhausted_ , and to be frank, I’m fucking _pissed_. So the next words out of your mouth better be some brilliant warrior-poet Vivec shit because if I don’t like it, it’s gonna be carved on your headstone.”

 

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I can explain, just …” she glanced around for a moment, then lowered her voice, “… just not here, in the open. I have a secret room, and I have an important message for you, just hear me out.”

 

I glanced back at my companions, and they were still poised to strike, should they need to. I made a show of licking my teeth before I said, “They come with me.”

 

She nodded. “Of course. Now please …”

 

“Lead the way,” I interrupted, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible now. She had wasted enough of our time as it was, I suppose she owed us some answers. We all followed her into her room, closing the door behind us as she instructed before following her through a door that was hidden in a false panel in the back of a wardrobe. There was a fairly steep set of stairs that opened up into a small room, a table in the middle, surrounded by various alchemy ingredients, supplies, and even armor and weapons. I was immediately thankful that I’d insisted that Cal and Sirius come with me, I wouldn’t have been near as comfortable had I not had them by my side.

 

The woman rounded the table in front of us and faced me, finally introducing herself. “My name is Delphine, and I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you, but I hope you’ll realize that it was necessary.” I refrained from grumbling as she continued. “The Greybeards seem to think you’re the Dragonborn, and I hope they’re right.”

 

“They are. I didn’t know it until recently, but I am Dragonborn.”

 

She nodded. “I do hope so, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t assume that something’s true just because the Greybeards say so. I just handed you the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, does that make me Dragonborn, too?”

 

My eyes narrowed. “If you think that’s all it takes to be Dragonborn, then you’re far more stupid than I thought, and I don’t see why I should waste my time here.”

 

She immediately realized her error and started backtracking. “Please, I didn’t go to all this trouble on a whim. I just needed to make sure it wasn’t a Thalmor trap. I’m not your enemy! I’m actually trying to help you. I just need you to listen to me.”

 

“Then you’d better start explaining. Fast.” My tone and my expression implied that she’d better not try anymore cute or sassy shit with me. I was so far over and done with this, I just wanted to get out of the Inn already.

 

She seemed to get the message. “I had to know if the rumors about you were true. I’m part of a group that’s been looking for you - well, someone like you, anyway - for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn, that is. Before I tell you any more, though, I need to make sure I can trust you.”

 

My nostrils flared. “Really? _You_ want to make sure you can trust me, when I don’t know you from a piece of horse shit on the road? What makes you think I want to do anything to earn your favour?”

 

“Because dragons aren’t just coming back, they’re coming back to _life_ ,” she hastily explained, realizing that she was losing me quickly. “They weren’t just gone somewhere all these years, they were _dead_ , killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. Now, something’s happening to bring them back to life, and I need the Dragonborn to help me stop it before they destroy all of Skyrim, and Tamriel right after.”

 

I had to give her credit, that did catch my attention. I relaxed my stance ever so slightly as I asked, “What makes you think dragons are coming back to life?”

 

“I _know_ they are. I’ve visited their ancestral burial mounds and found them empty. And I’ve figured out where the next one will come back to life. We’ll go there together and stop it, and if we succeed, then I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

 

Well, if it was a dragon issue, then I was supposed to be the one to handle it, being Dragonborn and all. I might not like Delphine, but if a dragon was going to be threatening people, it was my responsibility to bring it down. “Where are we going, then?”

 

“Kynesgrove. There’s an ancient dragon burial mound there. If we can get there before it happens, maybe we can learn how to stop it.”

 

“Alright then, it’s settled,” I said with a small smile, eager to get on the road and into some action. “Let’s go kill a dragon.”

 

My companions and I left her in her secret room to get ready while we grabbed a quick meal. It wasn’t going to be particularly enjoyable getting back on the road and going as far as Kynesgrove, but at least once we were finished there, we could simply make our way back to Ivarstead and the 7,000 steps to High Hrothgar. I groaned internally, dreading that long climb. But there was nothing to it. I was the Dragonborn and it was my duty to the Greybeards to fetch the horn and return to them, so I was going to do it. Orgnar, the bartender, fixed us up some sandwiches to eat on the go, and supplied us with some ale for the road. By the time he was done, Delphine had emerged from her room, suited up from head to toe in some leather armor, complete with a hood. I realized then that I recognized her … she had been the one in Farengar’s study when we’d returned with the Dragonstone. No wonder she seemed confident in her knowledge, she’d probably been conferring with him.

 

She nodded toward the bartender as she passed him. “Orgnar, I’m traveling. You’ve got the inn ’til I get back.”

 

He nodded and waved at her retreating figure as we followed after her. “Happy trails.”

 

Outside, in the bright sunlight, Delphine adjusted her pack and set off down the road, expecting us to follow. “Kynesgrove is this way.” I already knew that, of course, coming within close quarters of it the first time my companions and I had traveled to Ivarstead. I let her lead as I nibbled on my sandwich, the spiced beef oozing juices into the still warm bread. It was nice and hearty, and if I’d still been back at the inn I would have liked to take a nap. But, it was not to be, as I trudged along behind Delphine. After some silence had lapsed, she said, somewhat quietly, “I hope you’re the Dragonborn, I really do. But we’ll find out soon enough. We may both end up dead, but at least it gets me out of Riverwood. I don’t really think I’m cut out for the quiet life. I doubt the Thalmor are aware of you just yet, so we should be safe from them, at least.”

 

She had mentioned the Thalmor a couple of times, and I couldn’t let it pass once more without asking, “You said the Thalmor are after you?”

 

She nodded. “Yes. We’re very old enemies. And, if my suspicious are correct, they might have something to do with the dragons returning. But, that isn’t important right now. What’s important is that there is a dragon about to be raised outside Kynesgrove, and I want to get there as soon as possible.”

 

Travel seemed to loosen her tongue a little bit, so I tried again, admittedly curious now that the fires of my rage had dwindled down. “So, why did you take the horn from Ustengrav?”

 

“I knew the Greybeards would send you there if they thought you were Dragonborn. They’re nothing if not predictable. When you showed up here, I knew you were the one the Greybeards sent, not some Thalmor plant.”

 

“Why are you looking for the Dragonborn, though?”

 

“Ah, we remember what most dont: that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragon slayer. You’re the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul.” She looked back at me as she asked, “Can you do it? Can you devour a dragon’s soul.”

 

Immediately, the fight outside the Western Watchtower flashed inside my mind, my sudden moment of bravery hopping onto the dragon and sending my blade through its neck, then feeling the rush of power as a force as of yet unknown at that time coursed through me. I would never forget that moment, the way it swept over it and made me tingle from head to toe. “Yes, yes I can. That’s how I first learned I was Dragonborn.”

 

She seemed satisfied with my answer, not that I cared or anything. “Good. And you’ll have a chance to prove it to me soon enough.” At that time, we were drawing close to Valtheim Towers, and she remarked on it. “Up ahead is a notorious bandit hideout, but it’s also the shortest way to Kynesgrove, so we may have to kill a few bandits.”

 

“I doubt there’s any there at the moment,” I stated, almost bored. “We took care of them on our way to Ivarstead, so unless some new ones have settled in, it should be abandoned.”

 

Sure enough, all was quiet as we passed the towers, and we continued on our way, pausing only for a moment to fill up our water skins at the river. Delphine raised a hand to her head to block out the sun as she stated, “We’ll cross the White River and follow it to Windhelm, then we can swing south to Kynesgrove. There’s an inn there, the Braidwood, we can stay there for the night. I hear they serve a nice dark ale. Nothing on the Sleeping Giant, of course.” She smiled softly at me as she added, “I’m glad you were willing to trust me. I know it probably wasn’t the best way to introduce myself, but … old habits … you know.”

 

I nodded, likely the closest I would get to an apology from her. We followed her up to Windhelm, further north on that particular road than I’d traveled yet. We’d gone cross country to get to Ivarstead, so we hadn’t even come close to the old city. I suddenly remembered Rohirra, and wondered if she’d made it back to Windhelm. Perhaps after I’d returned to the Greybeards, I could go and see if I could find her, check in on her. She said we’d be welcome at the palace, I would have to see if indeed that held true. Or if she even returned at all.

 

The rest of the journey to the small town of Kynesgrove was quiet, though the closer we got the more unsettling it seemed. Like something was lurking, just waiting to strike. It put me off and made me nervous, and I kept swiveling my head as if I expected to be attacked at any minute. Perhaps Delphine’s paranoia was simply rubbing off on me, as we encountered no trouble on the journey there. There was just something, though, something in the air that felt like a spark of electricity would set it off. Everyone seemed to sense it, Caladh keeping his bow notched and Sirius walking just a little bit closer to me.

 

As we turned to enter the small village, a young woman came running toward us, shouting, “No, turn back! A dragon is attacking!”

 

My heart started beating wildly as Delphine stopped her just long enough to ask, “Where is it?”

 

“It flew over the town and landed on the old dragon burial mound. I don’t know what it’s doing up there, but I’m not waiting around to find out!” She finally pulled her arm out of Delphine’s grasp and ran back down the road, toward Windhelm.

 

I had already drawn my bow and had an arrow ready when Delphine turned to me, “Come on, we have to hurry. We might be too late.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in updating again ... I just reaaaaaaaally dislike writing stuff with Delphine in it, can you tell? Haha.

My heart pounded in my chest as we made our way up the hill, my bow drawn and an arrow strung, pointed down at the ground until I had a set target to aim at. We all hit a sweet spot between speed and stealth, settling into the top of the side of the hill as the midnight black dragon circled overheard. I swallowed hard to see it, his intimidating figure cutting a strong profile against the sky, and I couldn’t help the shiver that went up my spine. I felt my gut twist inside me to see him, and while I was indeed the Dragonborn, I was nervous at the prospect of facing a dragon again. I couldn’t help but wonder if my first encounter was a fluke, a stroke of luck that enabled me to kill the dragon threatening Whiterun. I also had quite a few guards backing me up, here I only had my two companions and Delphine. My lack of experience seemed more obvious than ever as I gulped, watching as the sleek black dragon hovered over the burial mound, speaking in ancient Dragon tongue in a tone so deep it vibrated in my chest.

 

“Sahloknir! Ziil gro dovah ulse!”

 

Delphine swore under her breath. “Lorkhan’s eyes, look at that big bastard! Keep your head down, let’s see what it does.”

 

The large black dragon continued to hover above the mound, chanting in his native tongue, and we all watched on, curious. “Sahloknir! iil gro dovah ulse! Slen Tiid Vo!”

 

Delphine held out her hand as she whispered to us, “Steady, I don’t know what’s happening. Let’s just watch and wait.”

 

As we did just that, the black dragon sent a force wave toward the mound, from his voice, and it seemed to shake the very ground beneath us. I wondered briefly if he had caused an earthquake when something burst from the burial mound and my eyes widened in terror as a skeletal dragon appeared, crawling from its tomb. _How in Oblivion are we supposed to fight that?_ I wondered, but I wasn’t left wondering too long as while the dragon dragged itself to the surface, flesh and scales regenerated until he was an intact, living dragon once more. He lifted his head to the heavens to see the large black dragon there, no doubt his leader, and roared to him, “Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyskseijun kruziik?”

 

The hovering dragon seemed to reply, “Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir.” Suddenly, his inky black eyes caught mine, and my heart dropped in my stomach as I knew he saw me, and he also knew who I was. He made a sound that almost seemed like a chuckle as he said, in his booming voice, “Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu’u koraay nid nol dov do hi. You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah. Sahloknir, krii daar joorre.”

 

“Look out!” Delphine cried as the newly arisen dragon took flight, circling with the black one as he stretched his wings once more.

 

“I am Sahloknir!” he roared. “Hear my Voice and despair!”

 

_Fuck_ , was all I could think as my companions and I quickly skirted away from our positions as he swooped down on us, throwing fire at us as we scrambled for a new position. As soon as I was on solid ground, I turned and fired, Delphine sending an arrow at him along with me and Caladh sending a ball of fire back at him. I managed to notch an arrow and get off another shot before he went to swoop down on us again and sent us scrambling for new purchase with the rain of fire that was beating down on us. Since Sirius didn’t have a ranged weapon, he was in charge of positioning and covering our backs and keeping an eye on the dragon while we settled into the brush once again. He called out the position and all three of us turned and let loose with our attacks, and I managed to get off three arrows this time before he swooped again. He seemed to falter somewhat as he flew back up, and a flush of confidence suddenly filled me. He was getting weaker, I could somehow feel it in my bones, but he was circling now and not swooping anymore, not wanting to risk himself any further. I had to try to draw him out, make him come to me, and so I did the only thing I could think of at the time.

 

I dashed out from my hiding spot and stopped in the middle of the burial mound, aiming up at the sky as I opened my mouth and let rip a shout, “FUS RO!”

 

The shout only barely clipped him, but it had its intended affect as the dragon turned toward me, snarling, “Dovahkiin, your Voice is no match for mine!” But as he barrelled down on me, I aimed a shot carefully and let it loose, and the arrow hit home as it buried itself in his left eye.

 

Sahloknir’s body went slack as the arrow had its intended affect, burying deep in his skull and felling him. I dived out of the way as his body hit the ground, making the earth tremble underneath us all, the effect only intensified for me as I had fallen on my hands and knees to avoid being crushed underneath the dragon’s massive body as it fell from the sky. Sirius was quickly by my side, helping me to my feet as I felt Sahloknir’s soul get absorbed into mine. The rush made me stumble, but Sirius was there, supporting me as I got my wits about me once again. I hoped I wouldn’t pass out like I had outside Whiterun, though while I did feel dizzy I was able to fight it back and steady myself once again. I felt another hand at my back, and as I turned my head I saw Cal standing there, making sure I was fine. Delphine was still standing on the other side of the clearing, her jaw openly dropped at the scene in front of her. Whatever she’d been expecting, this clearly hadn’t quite been it, and I smirked as I knew she was about to be eating her words.

 

“Gods above,” she gasped. “So you really are … I … it’s true, isn’t it? You really are Dragonborn?”

 

“Yes,” I replied. “If the Dragons themselves calling me such didn’t give it away.”

 

She hoisted her bow once more as she approached me. “I owe you some answers, don’t I? Go ahead, then. Whatever you want to know, ask. I won’t hold anything back.”

 

I crossed my arms as I asked her upfront, “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

 

She didn’t miss a beat or hesitate as she replied, “I’m one of the last members of the Blades. A very long time ago, the Blades were dragon slayers, and we served the Dragonborn, the greatest dragon slayer, guarding them and fighting for them. For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose. Now that dragons are coming back, our purpose is clear again. We need to stop them.”

 

My brow furrowed. “Who exactly are the Blades?” Granted, my memory still wasn’t the best, and I still felt like not everything had come back, but I couldn’t recall hearing anything about these Blades.

 

She smirked. “Nobody really remembers our name these days. We used to be known across Tamriel as the protectors of the Septim Emperors. Those days are long gone, though. For the last two hundred years, we’ve been searching for the next Dragonborn to guide and guard, as we are sworn to do, but we never found one. Until now.”

 

I raised my eyebrow as I pondered what that might mean. Did she want to travel with me, then? I wasn’t exactly keen on that idea, but I figured I would cross that bridge when I got to it. If the Blades were meant to serve the Dragonborn, then they would listen to my orders, yes? That meant, if I didn’t want them traveling with me, I should be able to send them elsewhere, at least for a time until I could figure out what to do about them. Of course, who knew how many of these Blades were left. They seemed to be a bit on the, eh … extinct side. Or at the very least, extremely endangered. Nevertheless, that seemed to be a question for later as I asked, “What’s our next move, then?”

 

“Well, the first thing we need to do is figure out what’s behind the dragons, and I think the Thalmor are our best lead. If they aren’t involved, they’ll know who is, I’m sure of it.”

 

I think I had heard that name at least in passing, but I had no idea who they were. “Who are the Thalmor?”

 

She almost laughed outright. “They’re the faction that rules the Aldmeri Dominion, the ones who almost destroyed the Empire during the Great War about thirty years back. There’s no worse enemy to humankind in Tamriel. The Empire barely even survived the last war, and the Thalmor don’t intend to lose the next one.”

 

The catching up info was great, but I didn’t quite connect points a and b, who the Thalmor were and why they would either be involved in the dragons coming back or know who was. “What makes you think they’re involved?”

 

“Admittedly … nothing solid. Yet, anyway. But my gut tells me it can’t be anybody else. The Empire had captured Ulfric, the Civil War was basically over … and then a dragon attacks, Ulfric escapes, and the war is back on. Dragons are starting to attack indiscriminately, Skyrim is weakened, the Empire is weakened … who else gains from that but the Thalmor?”

 

“Hmmm …” It was a good question, but suspicions didn’t a conspiracy prove, and we’d need more to go on in order to act. In the meantime, I remembered something Delphine had mentioned back at the Inn. “You said the Thalmor were after you … why is that?”

 

She nodded. “Before the Great War, the Blades helped the Empire against the Thalmor. Our Grand Master saw them as the greatest threat to Tamriel. At the time, that was true. Maybe it still is. So we fought them in the shadows, all across Tamriel. We thought we were more than a match for them … we were wrong. They slaughtered most of us and the sent the rest into hiding, so now we lick our wounds from the shadows as they grow only more powerful.”

 

Well, whether they were behind the dragons or not, they seemed like a formidable opponent that should at least be looked at further. “So, sounds like we need to find out what the Thalmor know about the dragons. Any ideas?”

 

“Of course … though, it’s not an easy one. If we could get into the Thalmor Embassy, the center of their operations in Skyrim, we could see what they know. Problem is, that place is locked up tighter than a Silver-Blood’s purse. Heh, they could teach _me_ a few things about paranoia …”

 

“There’s got to be _some_ way …”

 

Delphine bit her lip. “I’m not sure, but I might have a way. I have a few ideas, but I’ll need some time to confirm some things and pull it all together. I’ll send word when I’m ready and you can meet me back in Riverwood.” She paused before she stepped away from us, leaving us with, “Keep an eye on the sky. This is only going to get worse.”

 

Well, I could certainly do that, but first things first, I desperately wanted to sit down. Maybe have a meal and relax. But definitely sit down. So my two companions and I trudged back down the hill to the Inn in Kynesgrove and settled in there, ordering some food and drink and relaxing for the rest of the evening. I figured we damn well deserved it, after killing a dragon. A second dragon, at that. Adrenaline still hummed through my veins, though at a much lower level than before. The high of battle was starting to wear off and it left me feeling jittery and tired. The next day, we would make our way back to High Hrothgar, and the prospect of climbing the 7,000 steps once again made me groan. But, I was close to the end of my task now. The Horn rested within my pack, and needed only be delivered now. I wondered what they would do with it after I gave it to them, but I figured it didn’t really matter. They’d asked me to retrieve it, and I’d done so, even with the small detour I’d been forced to take. Tomorrow, tomorrow I would hand it over. But for tonight, I feasted and drank with my companions and relaxed. The big, black dragon was still out there, and who knew where he might strike next, but for now I’d had a hand in taking out two of his dragons permanently, and that was definitely something. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to this title of Dragonborn, if I would ever get used to felling dragons, but at the moment I tossed all concern away and simply enjoyed the moment.

 

We all woke up the next morning with minimal difficulty, only a mild headache for Sirius and myself, and seemingly no issues for Caladh. It was probably his elven constitution that warded off even the slightest after effects of the mead. _Lucky bastard,_ I thought as we headed out and I squinted against the bright sun, shielding my eyes for a moment as we made our way out onto the road. It took us a little longer to reach Ivarstead than it would have otherwise, and we’d likely stay in the Inn that night before we headed … well, wherever else we decided to go … but we were about halfway up the 7,000 steps before the sun started to set over the horizon. I wrapped my cloak around me as we reached High Hrothgar, the biting chill of the air starting to seep through my armour and padding, affecting even my Nord blood. I had to wonder just how Caladh was adapting to this cold, but I didn’t dare look back and take my eyes off the goal in front of me. The closer we drew toward the stone structure, the further away it seemed to be, until I finally set my hands on the door and pushed it open, making my way inside as my companions followed close behind me.

 

The Greybeards heard our arrival and greeted us, Arngeir stepped forward and smiling gently as I drew the Horn from my pack. “Ah! You’ve retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Well done. You have now passed all the trials. Come here, it is time for us to recognize you formally as Dragonborn.” My companions stood back as the rest of the Greybeard and I gathered in the vestibule, the monks circling me as Arngeir explained, “You are ready to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force … DAH, which means _push_.”

 

Master Wulfgar stepped forward and, just like before, breathed the word and set glowing letters on the floor that seemed to shimmer and waver before me. It was only a few minutes before the understanding rushed into me, and then Arngeir announced, “With all three words together, this Shout is much more powerful. Use it wisely. Master Wulfgar will now gift you with his knowledge of DAH.”

 

I accepted the direct knowledge from Wulfgar, letting it wash over me almost in a whirlwind before it settled in my bones. I felt like I was thrumming with energy, so much so that I could likely sprint down the 7,000 steps with little difficulty. I wondered if it was because I’d learned the third word of a Shout, or if perhaps the more Shouts I learned the more I could _feel_ the power coursing through me. Either way, I stood there quietly, waiting for what was coming next, though I wasn’t sure what it was.

 

Arngeir nodded and tucked his hands in his long sleeves as he said, “You have completed your training, Dragonborn. We would Speak to you. Stand between us and prepare yourself. Few can withstand the unbridled, direct Voice of the Greybeards. But you are ready.”

 

I didn’t know quite what the experience would be like, but the stone beneath my feet seemed to tremble and I felt almost thrown off balance as they all began to speak in unison.

 

“Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu’ul, yoth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu’umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok.”

 

Each word, though I couldn’t understand exactly what it meant, thundered through me. I had no doubt that, had I not been Dragonborn, I would have been rent limb from limb to have their voices directed at me like this. It was crazy powerful, powerful not in the physical sense, but in the sense that they could destroy a person with a mere phrase. It made my gut tremble at the prospect, grateful that not only could I withstand it, but that they had blessed me with it. I felt just a little bit more powerful myself for still standing, despite the fact that I’d wanted to succumb to being knocked off my feet.

 

At its conclusion, the rest of the Greybeards disbanded and wandered back to their areas of High Hrothgar while Arngeir stayed to address me further. “You have tasted the voice of the Greybeards and passed through unscathed. High Hrothgar is open to you.”

 

It felt like an incredible honour, yet I still had questions. “What was that ceremony? Were you Shouting at me?”

 

He smiled gently as he explained, “We spoke the traditional words of greeting to a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance. The same words were used to greet the young Talos when he came to High Hrothgar, before he became the Emperor Tiber Septim.”

 

It was incredibly humbling and yet amazing to know that I’d received the same greeting as Talos himself. I had to know … “What did you actually say?”

 

The old Greybeard chuckled. “Ah, I sometimes forget you are not versed in the Dragon tongue as we are. The rough translation is: _Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worth brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and int he name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North. Hearken to it._ ”

 

The Dragon of the North. It was certainly a title to live up to. And I intended to do just that.


	15. Chapter 15

After spending the night at High Hrothgar - at the insistence of the Greybeards - we made our way down the 7,000 steps. On the way down, we discussed where we should go next, since my personal quest of finding my family was done and over with and the Greybeards had no need of me and who knew when Delphine would send for me. Cal and Sirius had no set plans, they just wanted to follow and adventure, but I … well, I had a feeling that I needed to be doing something. I was the Dragonborn, and the Dragonborn couldn’t just sit on their ass and wait for an issue to come to them. No, I had to find something to do, and I had a feeling I would find it in Windhelm.

 

“Windhelm?” Sirius asked. “What’s there?”

 

“Rohirra. I think she wanted me to visit.”

 

Cal chuckled. “She wants to recruit you.”

 

“And perhaps that’s not a bad thing,” I countered. “If this Civil War gives strength to the Aldmeri Dominion, then a swift end would be good for all, yes? It would give time for the Empire to lick their wounds and time for Skyrim to build her strength.”

 

“But why the Stormcloaks, Sera? Why not throw in your lot with the Empire?”

 

I paused, searching for the right words. I knew, as a Dunmer, Caladh was not always looked on favourably in Skyrim. Sirius and I faced no issues with discrimination, being Nords, but Cal’s appearance was hard to ignore. I loved him dearly as a companion regardless, but I wasn’t blind to the looks he got when we were in towns or spending evenings at local Inns. “Because Rohirra was right, I _do_ have an affinity for Talos, and I cannot support a side that will not acknowledge him. But …” I fixed him with a stare, “… if she was incorrect, if the Stormcloaks themselves won’t welcome you, if they give us any hassle, then we go to Solitude and join the Legion instead.”

 

Caladh could plainly see the passion on my face, in my eyes, could hear the earnestness in my voice, and he nodded. “As you wish, Sera.”

 

We journeyed most of the day and didn’t make it to Windhelm until night was falling. We bunkered down in The Frozen Hearth for the night, eating a hearty meal of stewed meat and potatoes and drinking a few bottles of mead between us. There was one man in particular that stared a hole through Caladh, but the dirty look I shot him made him back away. Nobody would dare approach us about our companion and not walk away without at least limping, of that I had already determined before we made it into the city. Caladh and Sirius were both good friends of mine, close friends now, and I wouldn’t stand for anyone making snide remarks or making them uncomfortable, especially if it was because they had followed me into a situation.

 

The next morning, we slept in, not really having a particular schedule to keep to. We figured we should treat ourselves, after all, since we’d been traveling and doing a lot lately. I was glad to see that Cal was up last, however, since it minimized the chances of somebody giving him grief while we slept. Sirius and I ordered bowls of warm porridge for all of us and it wasn’t but a few minutes before Caladh joined us, wiping the crusts out of his eyes before he sat down at the table. The warm breakfast was definitely needed in one of the coldest cities of Skyrim, and the wonderfully warm feeling spread across my stomach and clung to my ribs as I finished my bowl. A flash of a memory appeared, one that made me smile … sitting at the family table, sharing a bowl of porridge with my brother before we scurried out the door to help our father. The harvest was over, but we still worked the lands to prepare it for the next, and he had already been out and working for a couple of hours by the time we would get up and get dressed and eat and join him. It was nice, a nice memory for once, instead of anything dark or painful.

 

After our casual breakfast, we made our way up to the Palace of the Kings. It was impressive, though I expected no less of it. It looked as it was carved from one continuous stone, and for that I gave a major nod to those who built it. The dark stone jutted upwards to the sky above, leaving no question as to its majesty. Its power was denoted clearly through its presence alone, and that made me just a little bit more nervous than I had been before. I kept thinking of what Rohirra had said, that I would be welcome there at any time, but that was if she made it back. What if she hadn’t? What if she’d been ambushed later on down the road? Or succumbed and died in the wilderness? She hadn’t been too badly injured, especially with the help we gave her, but if her wound had reopened and gotten infected …

 

I needn’t have worried, for as soon as we entered, I saw a familiar flash of bright red hair at the head of the long hall. Rohirra stood there, tall and strong, conversing with two men, one of whom was obviously none other than Ulfric Stormcloak, himself, the way he sat on the throne in a manner that could only be described as lounging. The Captain of the Guard turned slightly as we walked in, and a smile grew across her face as she saw who it was. She walked boldly over to us, nary a limp in her stride, and she immediately pulled me into a bear hug. “You don’t know how pleased I am to see you here!” she exclaimed as she pulled away. “Come, I’ll introduce you to Ulfric. I know he’ll want to meet you.” My companions followed a couple of steps behind, and I swallowed hard as we all approached the throne. The stories I’d heard of Ulfric made him seem larger than life, though to see him sit there, if I hadn’t known he would have seemed like an ordinary man. Perhaps that was part of what endeared him to his followers, the whole “common man” angle. I would reserve personal judgement until I actually met the man. “My liege,” Rohirra addressed him as when we approached, “You wanted me to show her to you if she came to Palace of the Kings. This is Joanna, the Dragonborn.”

 

“Ah, the fabled slayer of dragons. Two now, is it?”

 

_How does he know about Sahloknir?_ “Yes, sir. If I may … you know about the second already?”

 

“Of course I do. I know everything that happens in my own hold.” He winked before he continued. “I thank you, of course, for taking care of it. But I have to wonder … what brings you here?”

 

_Well, here goes nothing._ “I wanted to join your cause.”

 

His eyebrow quirked, as if in surprise. “Do you now? The Dragonborn wishes to be a Stormcloak?” He smirked and chuckled lightly under his breath. “Don’t misinterpret, I would of course be very happy to have you join us, but I must wonder … why is it that you’ve come to this?”

 

I squared my shoulders, trying to look as grown up as I was, to project the confidence I didn’t truly feel, and hoped he wouldn’t immediately see past it. “Because the real threat is the Thalmor, and the longer that Skyrim remains in turmoil, the stronger they become. This war needs to end, and quickly, if they are to be stopped.”

 

“Then why not throw your lot in with the Imperials? They are better funded, after all, and they have the backing of Cyrodiil and the rest of the Empire.”

 

Ah, so he wanted the personal reason, then. “Rohirra was right.” I flicked my gaze over to the Captain as I continued, “As Dragonborn, I _do_ have an affinity for Talos. And, as much as I want this war to be over, I would prefer the right side to win it.”

 

He nodded, stroking the side of his beard. “We are at a bit of a delicate impasse with this war, I have Jarls who are willing to support me and others who are not. If we are to win, I must make sure they are all supportive, or else we cannot oust the Empire. There are skirmishes on both sides, but nothing significant. If this war needs to end, and quickly, we must begin making bolder moves.”

 

The older man at his side spoke up, then. “You think it is time, then? To march on Whiterun?”

 

My heart trilled at the thought of attacking Whiterun, my sort of adopted home where I was Thane. Of course, this was a war, I had known it wasn’t going to be a casual stroll in the forest, it would involve battles and fighting and unpleasantness all around. But while I knew that, and I knew it wanted it to end, and I also wanted to try to help it end as soon as possible, I still felt a little conflicted about attacking the very city that had taken me in. It was there were I had first felt accepted, where I had set down a little roots, had a home. It was where I had been given upgraded weapons, where Adrianne had given me a special set of armour. I couldn’t afford to get too attached now, though … this needed to be done, and despite my paternal feelings toward Jarl Balgruuf and my gratefulness for his help, if he chose to be with the Empire, then that was his decision and as a man he would stand with it. And as a woman, I would stand with mine.

 

Ulfric sighed heavily. The decision was far from an easy one. “Balgruuf and I have been dancing around this for months, now, and he has evaded my every attempt to try to get him to take a side. He wants to remain neutral, but this is not the time for neutrality. He either needs to stand with me or stand aside.” He looked back at me and asked, “You are Thane of Whiterun, are you not?”

 

I nodded. “I am. But I would pledge my loyalty to you, if it came down to it.”

 

“Hopefully it will not.” He stood from his throne as he continued, “I would have you take the oath, and once you have I would have you return to Whiterun and seek counsel with Balgruuf. Do what you can to convince him. Once you have met with him, return to me, and we will give him the space to make a decision before we move.”

 

“As you wish, my lord.”

 

“Galmar? I believe there is someone else waiting to take the oath as well. You can swear them both in at the same time.”

 

“Yes, my lord.” He turned to me and simply said, “Follow me. Elira is waiting in the war room.”

 

Elira seemed like a fairly typical Nord woman, tall and slender, pale blond hair pulled back and crystal blue eyes that shone as brightly as her golden armour. There was something calming about her quiet demeanour, and as I stood next to her, I had a good feeling about this, like this was definitely something I was supposed to do.

 

Once we were all gathered, Galmar cleared his throat and announced, “By swearing this oath, you become one of us. A hero of the people. A true son or daughter of Skyrim. A Stormcloak. Repeat after me … I do swear my blood and honour to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak …”

 

Elira and I repeated it in unison. “I do swear my blood and honour to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak …”

 

“… Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim …”

 

“ … As Talos is my witness, may this oath bind me to death and beyond …”

 

“… even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms …”

 

“… All hail the Stormcloaks, the true sons and daughters of Skyrim!”

 

At the conclusion, Galmar gave us a gruff smile and said, “Now, you’re one of us. You,” he directed at me, “… should go to Whiterun immediately, on that business Ulfric wanted you to do. And you,” he directed at Elira, “…you get to tag along on a little trip with me.”

 

At our dismissal, my companions and I made our way out of Windhelm and contracted a carriage to take us back to Whiterun just so we could take it a little easy. I had no real idea of what I would say to Balgruuf, what I even could say to convince him to join Ulfric. But I knew I had to try. That confidence I’d felt when the Greybeards had pronounced me the Dragon of the North, I had to try to tap into that and channel it. If only I could do that, then maybe I really could do this. If not … I hoped that Ulfric wouldn’t be too mad at me.

 

It was getting on in the evening by the time we made it back to Whiterun hold, and though I knew the hour I sent Lydia up to High Hrothgar to ask for a private audience with the Jarl. I felt it was important to treat this as formally as possible, since I was technically an emissary acting on behalf of Ulfric Stormcloak. I was very nervous, feeling like I was out of my league, here. Sure, I was Dragonborn, and yes I’d participated in killing two dragons, but meeting with a Jarl as a diplomat and trying to get him to come over to our side was a far different matter. I couldn’t just shoot arrows at Balgruuf to get him to submit, I had to use words, and not of the Thu’um variety. _Why did Ulfric pick me for this?_ I sighed as I sat in front of my fire, waiting for Lydia to return. I knew very well exactly why he had picked me. Not only was I Thane of Whiterun, and therefore already had a good rapport with the Jarl, but I was the Dragonborn, and with that title came respect, at least from most people it did. Anything I said, any opinion I put forth, any side that I took, that held influence and sway, or at least gave pause to think. I had only barely realized it before, but the actions that I took, they would have an outward rippling affect that could potentially touch all of Skyrim. I would have to be very careful in how I went about certain things. As Dragonborn, I now had a reputation to uphold. The weight of responsibility weighed heavy on me, and in moments of uncertainty, I wondered if I was truly cut out for this job.

 

Lydia returned within half an hour, with a message from Balgruuf himself that requested me to join him later that evening, in his private quarters. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that he wanted to meet with me so quickly, but I nodded and thanked the Housecarl and relieved her of her duties for the night.

 

I hemmed and hawed over what I should wear and how I should present myself. Though I felt an affinity for the Jarl of Whiterun, I didn’t know that much about him _personally_ , and so I wasn’t sure what kind of an approach he might favour more. I eventually settled on wearing my Thane armour, as well as carrying the sword that he’d had given to me as badge of my office. I was his Thane, and I wanted him to well remember that I had great love for this city and that my counsel was given in love and friendship, not simply cold-hearted diplomacy.

 

At the appointed time, I walked up to Dragonsreach, sans my companions. I had asked them to stay behind at Breezehome, not because I didn’t wish for their company, but because this was something that I needed to do myself, alone. If I succeeded, I didn’t want it to be because of the efforts of someone else’s silver tongue, and if I failed I didn’t want anyone else to bear the brunt of the responsibility for it. This whole mission hinged on me and me alone, and I would see it through to the end and take any and all potential consequences for it.

 

As soon as I entered the Hall, a servant approached me, waiting for my arrival. He lead me through the Hall, up the stairs, and into the private quarters part of Dragonsreach. There were guards posted every so often in the hallways, but because I was being escorted I was left alone and allowed to pass. If they hadn’t been told that Balgruuf was meeting with the Dragonborn, they likely knew now, and rumours would probably spread like wildfire. I hoped they wouldn’t assume the meeting was of another variety, though I supposed if that was the case then Balgruuf would be more discreet. Probably. For the sake of whatever woman he happened to see, I hoped he was.

 

I needn’t have worried too much about rumours of the more illicit variety, as a female servant was waiting for us in his office and the male servant stayed with us, even after he announced my arrival, standing by the door. Balgruuf waved me to a chair across from him as he said, “I hope you don’t mind having others present, but for the sake of our reputation, I thought it best. Rest assured, they are two of my most faithful servants and I have the utmost trust in them, so speak freely. Whatever we discuss won’t leave this room without our express permission.”

 

“I appreciate the gesture, and I thank you for meeting with me.”

 

“Of course, of course. A Jarl must make time for their Thanes, must they not? Time to listen to whatever report they have need of giving or advice they seek … or seek to give.”

 

_Does he know why I’m here?_ Well, no use in hedging around the issue. If he was offering me an easy in to the conversation, then I would take it. “It is the last that I wish to discuss with you, Jarl Balgruuf.”

 

“Please,” he said with a wave of his hand, “just Balgruuf. You are Thane and Dragonborn and in truth we are on a much more even plane than most would think simply by appearance. Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?”

 

As he spoke, he motioned to the female servant in the corner, who poured a couple of goblets of wine and presented it to us both. Balgruuf and I drank in friendship, displaying our mutual trust of each other. “I won’t hide my reason for the visit, not from you, as I think you deserve as much. I come on behalf on Ulfric Stormcloak.”

 

“Ah. I was wondering if this was possibly what this meeting was about. Well? What of Ulfric?”

 

“You and he have been dancing around each other for too long. This whole war has been going on too long already. The Empire and the Stormcloaks bicker amoungst themselves while the Dominion grows stronger by the day. If it isn’t ended soon, neither sides will be strong enough to repel them again and we will all fall, regardless of which side we take.”

 

“Aye, I am well aware.”

 

“Then why do you delay?”

 

He sighed as he sat back in his chair, sipping from his goblet as he carefully considered his answer. In this moment, he wasn’t simply Jarl of Whiterun, he was Balgruuf, a man who loved his hold and his country and wanted to do the right thing … though he was conflicted on what exactly that was. “Truth be told, I am more concerned about Whiterun and its citizens than a war. Tensions run high and I don’t want any violence breaking out between families and friends. They are not just kin to each other, but to me as well. I grew up with many of them, we saw each other mature and marry and have children. I don’t want them torn apart not just from each other but also from me.”

 

I took a moment to let the words sink into our conversation before I responded. He was personally invested in this, same as I was, and if I wasn’t careful this meeting could easily turn into a passionate shouting match. While we were both far from impartial in how things would play out in the big picture, we both had to approach this with level heads or we wouldn’t get anywhere. “I understand your hesitation to act and your unwillingness to divide your people. Were it up to me, I would see all of Skyrim united instead of broken and bickering. But I cannot do anything about that. Neither of us can stop this division, not without action. And Balgruuf … it is time for us to act. If we don’t, and if the Thalmor succeed against both us and the Empire, then what do you think will happen to these tensions? Will they not worsen? Will they possibly blame you for inaction? There is no choice here where everyone will end up happy and with what they want. Even taking no side there will be consequences that will potentially be far worse for Whiterun than what the war itself will bring.” I offered him a rueful, understanding smile. “I understand you want to remain beloved by your people, and that is a noble goal. But the time for that is past now, and you must do what is good for your people, whether they like it or not.”

 

He fingered the edge of his goblet, looking down into the dark red liquid as he thought about what I was saying. I considered it hopeful that he wasn’t countering me outright and actually taking the time to consider my words. Balgruuf seemed a good man, just a little too overly concerned about his people and what they thought of him. A good leader will do what is best no matter how it will affect public opinion, and I hoped that I appealed to that side of him. At last, he said, “And you would have me join Ulfric, then? Lose the stability of the Empire?”

 

“The Stormcloaks won’t be unstable for long, especially with the more support they gain. Ulfric already has Jarls backing him and the more that join him will make the rebellion even stronger. Even just one hold can make all the difference.”

 

“And if I don’t join him? What then?”

 

I swallowed hard, not wanting to be dishonest with him, but dreading what I had to say next. “Then Ulfric will march on Whiterun and take it by force and install a new Jarl that will support him.”

 

“I see. And that is why he sent you, then? To try to convince me to join him so he wouldn’t have to waste resources on overthrowing an old friend?”

 

“Ulfric doesn’t want to see you deposed, and neither do I. But the time has come to stop stalling and take more clear action against the Empire, and he will do what he must to ensure this war ends as quickly as possible. That is the goal. Give ourselves and the Empire as well time to lick our wounds and regather our strength so when the Dominion comes knocking - and they will - that they will not find that we bend so easily.”

 

He nodded. “I have a question for you. Why do _you_ support Ulfric? Why not the Empire?”

 

I had initially been nervous when he said he had a question for me, but this seemed as easy as it could be to answer. “Because I am Dragonborn, and therefore I am part of the legacy of Talos and all the Dragonborn before me. We used to be an integral part of the Empire, but if they denounce Talos then it is time for us to split ways with them. It is time for Ysmir to take a stand, and I take that stand with Ulfric. And I would like you by my side.”

 

“So you would be loyal to Ulfric? Even above Whiterun? Above me?”

 

I paused enough to look him in the eye. “Yes. But understand me, that is not something I take lightly. Whiterun is my home. I have defended it, I have a home here. You especially helped welcome me with open arms and I do not wish to seem like I am spitting on your graciousness. But I cannot allow that to sway me from the correct path. So, as much as it would pain me, I would stand with Ulfric even if you chose the Empire.”

 

“A fair answer. And I appreciate your honesty and directness. Not many would tell a Jarl to their face they would actively work to overthrow him should they choose a conflicting path.” He chuckled lightly. “It is refreshing, in a way, to deal with the issue this way instead of with petty diplomats with ulterior motives. Whether I would agree with you or not, I am glad you come to me openly. It does help in making my decision.” With that, he stood and paced over to a display case sitting on the other side of the room. Unlocking it, he lifted the lid and took an axe from it, the sharp steel glistening in the lamplight. I stood as he approached me and offered me the axe’s handle. “Here, take this to Ulfric.”

 

I wasn’t quite sure what was going on here, but I was hopeful that he was agreeing to join us. “Should I say anything to him?”

 

Balgruuf shook his head. “Men who understand each other often have no need for words. There are but a few simple truths behind one warrior giving another his axe. Ulfric will know my meaning.”

 

The next day, around the same time, as I presented the very same axe to Ulfric in the Palace of the Kings, the Jarl of Windhelm smiled. “So you convinced him, then? Good.” He looked over at Galmar as he chuckled. “You owe me a drink, friend.”

 

Galmar snorted brusquely. “It will be my pleasure if it means the Jarl of Whiterun stands with us.”

 

“It will have to wait until later. For now, I want you to take as many men as we can spare and bolster Whiterun’s defences. I do not think the Empire will be so keen to simply let Whiterun go without a fight. And you,” he turned toward me, “I want you to go with him. A Thane should be a part of a hold’s defence as it is, and as Dragonborn your presence will held hold sway over the battle.”

 

I bowed. “It will be done.”

 

He grinned as he leaned back in his throne. “Of that, I have no doubt.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, I had started this chapter a while back, before Kinktober, and just never got around to finishing it. Yay for NaNoWriMo, I guess?

I traveled back to Whiterun on foot this time, with a contingent of Stormcloaks besides just my normal companions. Galmar was with us, along with the recruit that had taken the oath with me, Elira, and a gruff looking older soldier that was blind in one eye named Ulfr. According to Galmar, there would be another, larger force that would meet us in Whiterun to help bolster the defences, this was simply a group that could be easily rallied from Windhelm. Because we were a smaller group, we were able to travel much more quickly than if we were part of a large contingent, and we all made it to the gates of Whiterun not long after the sun set in the evening. The guards seemed a bit hesitant to allow us to pass into the city, but as Thane I helped smooth over any fears and we were allowed in. Just inside the gate, Galmar called for us to halt as he said, “Wait here while I go up to Dragonsreach, see where the Jarl wants us posted.”

 

It was all very well and good, as we stood out there, all of us fidgeting and ready to settle down for the night and ready ourselves for whatever the morning might bring. I knew that I had a warm bed in a house of my own, but the rest of the men had no such assurances, and so I didn’t feel like I should leave them until Galmar returned. And so we waited, our breath making fog and mist in the cold night air. There was a chill that had eaten its way though my armour, and I yearned for my own bed, but I stayed. I stayed until finally Galmar returned, smirking as he said, “Looks like most of us will be bunking in the guard barracks tonight. All except for the Dragonborn and her companions, as it seems she has a house here. Go on, you’re dismissed until morning. With any luck, there will be another company joining us then.”

 

“Finally,” Ulfr muttered under his breath, making a beeline not for the barracks but for The Drunken Huntsman. A few of the others either followed Ulfr or made their way down to The Bannered Mare, wanting a nightcap before turning in for the night. As for myself and my companions, we returned to my own home. Under the stairs, there was a fairly small room meant for guests, with a couple of beds each for Cal and Sirius to use. I showed them their own lodgings before I trudged up the stairs, tired and footsore and eager to just fall into bed.

 

As Galmar had predicted, the next morning brought another, much larger contingent of Stormcloaks to Whiterun. Some were welcomed inside the city gates, to join us, the rest camped out around Whiterun, both to form a barrier around the city and to provide a natural scouting advantage. The capitol of Whiterun hold was smack dab in the middle of a plain, a slightly hilly one, but a plain nonetheless. It would be impossible for the Imperials to make a move without us knowing, and so now all we had to do was wait and let them come to us. As Ulfric had said, they weren’t about to simply let the city fall without a fight, it was only a matter of time before they gathered a sizeable enough force to attempt to oust us.

 

About mid-morning, a messenger was sent from Dragonsreach to ask me to attend a special counsel. I was a little surprised, but I advised the Wood Elf to tell them I would be on my way. I hadn’t even put my armour on yet that morning, so Lydia assisted me in hurrying through it. Cal and Sirius would stay at Breezehome, as it was heavily implied that the invitation was extended _only_ to the Thane of the hold, and not necessarily to anyone else under my employ. I didn’t really like leaving them behind, as they’d been with me so long it felt strange to not have them accompany me. But I did as ordered, and once I’d shouldered my weapons and pulled my hair back, I left my modest home, making my way up through Whiterun and to the expanse of Dragonsreach. So far, the arrival of the Stormcloaks didn’t seem like it had really impacted life in Whiterun so far, with children still running and playing and their parents coming and going as they worked and shopped. I couldn’t help but wonder how long this normalcy would last as I strode up the last steps, making my way into the hall.

 

I was ushered into Balgruuf’s private chambers once more, the last one of this war council to arrive. Already there was the Jarl, Galmar, the wizard Farengar, and Irileth. As the door closed, they nodded to me, and I joined them at the table where there was a map of Skyrim laid out for us to survey. Galmar had already marked where the Stormcloaks around Whiterun were camped out, and even where there were some reserves on standby should we need them. “As I was saying,” Galmar continued, “we have plenty of Stormcloaks available should we need them, though I don’t think we will. Our position is advantageous and the walls of this city are strong, we would do well to play to that strength.”

 

“Of course,” Balgruuf agreed. “I only wonder where exactly the Imperials will come from. If they come from Solitude, surely they can’t muster that much in numbers. But if they wait for reinforcements from Cyrodiil …”

 

“Then we will have to strike them quickly and decisively,” Galmar said. “If I know Tullius, he’ll want to try to end this quickly, so he’ll send a force from Solitude, and depend on backup arriving from Cyrodiil to bolster their numbers. We have to make sure by the time the Cyrodiil force arrives, there won’t be anyone for them to join and therefore no reason to stick around.”

 

“How long, do you think, until the first forces start to arrive?” Irileth asked.

 

“A few days, at the earliest. But I wouldn’t expect to see action until a week.”

 

“Why?” I couldn’t help but ask. I felt somewhat out of place, but I was Thane of the hold, and I felt I _needed_ to be involved in some way.l

 

Galmar didn’t berate me, at least, and explained, “They will want to gather and plan once they get here, consult with their scouts.”

 

“But why let them?” I asked again. “I mean, if we want to hit them quickly and decisively, why wait for them to get ready? We’re here, we’re ready, is there any reason we shouldn’t?”

 

“If anything, it would probably be best for the city,” Irileth confirmed. “If the Imperials get a chance to dig in, if they get a steady stream of supplies from Cyrodiil, we could be in for a long siege, one that we will not be able to win.”

 

“And we can’t afford that right now, not with the dragons,” I interjected. As Dragonborn, I knew the responsibility of handling the dragon issue fell with me, but first things first, the civil war had to be dealt with, and it had to be won and over with so I could concentrate on the dragons. So far, of course, I was still waiting to hear from Delphine, but when I needed to act, I wanted to be able to move without worry and without other pressing responsibilities.

 

We went through a few different scenarios, depending on where exactly the Imperials would be coming in and camping at and eventually formulated a plan. It was relatively simple, and if we could drive them out as quickly as we were hoping, this whole battle could be over and done with soon. And so much the better. My stomach was in knots in anticipation, and as I descended the steps outside of Dragonsreach, I felt like this waiting game would take forever. Surely it wouldn’t take too long for the Imperials to show up, right? Once Balgruuf had sent me off with his ax, he’d fired Commander Caius, removing him from the city, and he had to have gone running to Tullius to tell him what had happened in Whiterun. When I’d heard, I thought it a little extreme, but I suppose that Balgruuf didn’t want any questions regarding the loyalty of the Captain of his guard, considering Caius was a former Imperial soldier not that far removed from his days in the army. Or maybe the Jarl knew something I didn’t. Either way, what was done was done.

 

The next few days passed in a watchful wait. The Stormcloaks positioned outside the city had settled in not a moment too soon, as a light drizzle settled in the area, as if in anticipation of what was to come. The streets became a muddy mess, and though the children enjoyed running out in it, most of the adults stayed inside, save for those of us who needed to be out in it. I spent a good amount of time on the wall with Ulfr, keeping an eye out for any movement on the plains that wasn’t our own men. Despite being blind in one eye, due to an old injury, his other eye was even sharper than my own, and according to Galmar he was one of the bet scouts and best warriors he’d had the pleasure of working with. Ulfr seemed like a stereotypical older grump, but in reality he was quite jovial once one got to know him. Along with him and my own companions keeping us company, it seemed he had contracted a traveling companion a well. Her name was Jenassa, and she was a Dunmer mercenary that he had met in Whiterun itself. _Anything to strengthen our numbers, I suppose_ , I mused, glad at least that my watcher friend did not have the reservations about Mer that it was said Stormcloaks did. I was finding more and more that what Rohirra said was true, that real Stormcloaks didn’t care about race, that the outspoken bigots weren’t even a part of the army. Since joining, when interacting in and around the soldiers, none had given Caladh more than a passing glance, and that only strengthened my resolve. I still kept an eye out for the slightest aggression toward my friend, but more and more I was thinking that my fellow Stormcloaks were not who I was going to see that from.

 

At the end of the third day since our arrival, with no sign of Imperials in sight, I was starting to really get nervous. Our scouts were sent far and wide to check on movements, but none had reported in anything yet, and they were all accounted for. _Why are they taking so long? What’s the hold up?_ Galmar had said if there was nothing on our radar in a week, we would reconvene and assess our next move. Maybe we were wrong after all, maybe the Imperials were just going to let Whiterun go without a fight. It would be strange, illogical even to lose the hold in the heart of Skyrim, the hub of trading who would otherwise help secure trading lines with Cyrodiil. But with not a peep so far, we weren’t sure what their strategy was. Perhaps they wished to throw us off balance, to make us comfortable in our position so they could strike while we weren’t paying attention. That was Ulfr’s assessment as we continued our watch on the wall, bundled in cloaks and still freezing as we got progressively more soaked the longer we sat out there.

 

Shooting a glance over at me, he told me, “Go ahead and go home, I don’t think we’ll see anything today.”

 

“You sure?” I asked, not wanting to shirk my duties.

 

He nodded. “The Dragonborn Thane should be well rested and ready for battle, not exhausting themselves on watch.” He chuckled as he threw me a grin. “Don’t worry, you’ll be one of the first who will know when the Imperials come marching.”

 

Satisfied, I left him to his watch, trudging through the muddy streets back to my house, Caladh and Sirius on my tail. I’d told them they didn’t have to stay on watch duty with me, but they wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise. “And what would we do all day, lie around and eat sweet rolls?” Caladh had countered with a laugh. Of course, that didn’t sound like too bad of a way to spend some time off, but I figured if they froze or died of boredom, that was on them.

 

Lydia, perceptive as ever, had some mulled wine on the fire, warming up for our return. And after I stripped off my armour, dried off, and pulled on some dry clothes, I was ready for a nice cup of it. Cal and Sirius followed suit, though the Nord left his shirt off as he sat by the fire. “Enough excitement today for you two?” I asked playfully.

 

Cal snorted at my jab and Sirius just grinned. “We’ll take what we can get until the Imperials get here.”

 

“Let’s hope they hurry. I’m sick of sitting around and waiting.”

 

“Feeling restless, Sera?”

 

“I’m just ready for it to be over with.”

 

The Dunmer’s elegant lips lifted in a smile. “Miss the road?”

 

I chuckled. “Not _miss_ it, but … I just feel there is much to do, and I’m just wasting time sitting here and waiting.”

 

“Well, this _is_ our first major break since … well, since we started traveling together,” Sirius interjected. “We didn’t even pause that long in Rorikstead.”

 

I was quiet, sipping on the wine, not yet willing to relive that particular disaster. Well, perhaps disaster wasn’t quite the right word. I had found the answers I’d been seeking, even if they weren’t the ones I’d wanted. I had done my best to not give those old memories another thought, too afraid of what they might hold. Even the good ones seemed tainted, and I didn’t want to risk their recall, afraid that it would be overcome by something far less savoury. _Devastation._ Perhaps that was a better word to describe how I’d felt about my venture there. I wondered if it was truly better to know what had happened or to be forever ignorant of my past and how I’d come to shake off that spell in that dank cave. Maybe I should have just taken it as a sign and moved forward with my life, giving no thought to it. I couldn’t say that my life had been particularly enriched for knowing.

 

“Sera?” Caladh’s gentle voice broke through my thoughts. My eyes flicked over to where he sat, right next to me as he implored, “Something seems to be troubling you.” I shook my head, not wanting to address it, but my friend would not be denied. “It does no good to leave things as they are. Denying them only makes them worse.”

 

“We are not just your traveling companions, we are your friends, Joanna,” Sirius emphasized. “We know Rorikstead was rough on you, and we’ve refrained from speaking before now, but …” he set down his cup and he continued, “… well, we’re concerned about what happened.”

 

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I replied flatly, hoping the matter would be dropped.

 

I did not have such luck. “The longer you leave it, the longer it festers, Sera.”

 

Sighing, I swallowed as I watched the flames flicker in front of me, much like the fireplace of the farmhouse where it had all started coming back to me. I finished my wine in a single gulp and set my cup aside as I commented quietly, “I wish I’d never gone back there.”

 

My words hung in the air for a while as my companions allowed me the space to continue if I wanted, but I didn’t.That was all I felt needed to be said, the sum total of my feelings about my hometown. What had I been thinking, wanting to return, wanting to find my family, wanting to get answers? I was so naive to think that I could have simply reunited and been happy. I should have known as soon as I’d come to my senses that there was nothing joyous in store for me. The more I’d held on to that dream the less time I’d had to come to grips with reality, so when it had hit, it had been hard.

 

Cal let me have the quiet for just a little while longer before he commented, quietly, “Truth can be a bitter pill, that I know. But the cure is worth the suffering, and it is better to know than to forever doubt.”

 

I shook my head. “You didn’t see what I remembered. That night, finding their bodies, his hands as he …” My throat choked up as I stared furiously into the fire, refusing to let any tears fall. I’d shed enough of them, too many in my opinion.

 

The feeling of a soft hand against my arm had me jump, startling at the sudden contact. I looked up to see Caladh leaning toward me, his red eyes dark in the firelight. “Bad memories often outweigh good, even if there are few in number. Talking about them helps to process them, helps to put them in their place. I know what you went through was difficult, but it will only get worse if you refuse to acknowledge it. Don’t let it turn you bitter, Joanna, you are far too kind a soul for that.”

 

I felt as though I was stuck, caught between two opposing processes. On the one hand, I trusted my friends and I valued their advise, all of it that they’d given me since we’d met. I didn’t want to let them down just as I didn’t want to let anyone down. But on the other hand … on the other were those haunting memories that I didn’t feel I had the courage to face, didn’t even want to think about facing just yet. No, I just wanted to focus on the here and now, on fulfilling my duties as a Stormcloak, as the Thane of Whiterun, as Dragonborn. To me, that was most important, saving the world and bringing peace to Skyrim. At least, that was what I told myself. And then I looked at my friends as they implored me, as they told me how they cared for me and how they were trying to help me and I felt that resolve crumble bit by bit no matter how much I didn’t want it to. Could I really do this? Would it really help?

 

I didn’t get a chance to even decide if I wanted to act on it as suddenly there was a heavy banging at the door. Jumping up to answer it, I found it was Jenassa, Ulfr’s companion, standing there in the rain that had suddenly picked up in intensity. “Ulfr told me to come fetch you,” she said simply. “The Imperials are here.”


End file.
